Armor Ultio Est
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: Love is Vengeance. In an AU Alice Academy, Mikan and Natsume find something in one another they cannot explain, nor can they stop themselves from pursuing it. It's one hell of a ride, and the term 'love hate relationship' never felt so appropriate.
1. I

This is an idea I started from a line inspired by my N/M fic Arrythmia, and intended as a chapter of 'Some Things Never Change' but it reeked of so much potential that I couldn't resist turning it into a fun chaptered story.

This is my anti-fic, which I will explain at some point, but just get on and read the thing :)

* * *

Mikan Sakura was doing something Mikan Sakura never usually did. Mikan Sakura was going to the Library.

If she could avoid this unfortunate experience she would, and she'd succeeded many years all the way up to her senior year doing just that, aside from passing through for the odd chick-lit, but with university entrance exams looming she had been hit with the unfortunate ultimatum 'study and pass or you'll have to start work as soon as you graduate', and as much as she enjoyed her part time job she didn't want to do it for the rest of her life.

However, on this occasion she was not at the library for herself, but running errands for her tutor: Hotaru Imai made damn well sure she was paid in more ways than money if she was to sacrifice any time out of her schedule to teach drop-outs like her.

Mikan wandered into the Alice Academy High-school-branch library with an air or distaste, wrinkling her nose at the musty papery smell that always accompanied the place: empty, as usual.

This was probably thanks to the staff; they were notoriously antisocial here, and students were actually seen to go to Libraries outside school just to avoid the ill-tempered boy who worked most of the hours there. The one with the Alice of Fire.

He _was _there on this occasion, his spectacled nose buried deep in a book as usual.

"Excuse me?" Mikan tapped the spine of her book on the desk impatiently as he completely failed to register her waiting, "_woohoo_, anyone home?" She waved a hand in front of the library assistant's eyes and they snapped up from the pages they had been so resiliently glued to.

"What?" He said gruffly, putting his finger on the page he was reading but not closing the book.

"I'm just trying to return a book!" Mikan huffed – _really_; the way he acted it was as if he didn't _want _people in there. She half-remembered his name was Hyuga Natsume or something, but she couldn't be sure, because he didn't really mix with many other students apart from Nogi Ruka, who was training to get into veterinary medicine.

"Then put it on the desk and leave," he spat in irritation and went back to his book. Mikan slammed her book down on the desk hard and nearly laughed as Natsume almost jumped out of his seat; he was obviously quite edgy and startled easily. Scowling he flicked his eyes over to the cover placed before him and then his lips twisted into a pitying grin.

"What trash," he sniggered as he picked out the title of a trashy chick-lit, and Mikan felt her cheeks sting red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment – not _everyone _was a top-grade bookworm like _him_.

"Well what are _you_ reading?" she retorted to save some face, and leaned across the desk to try and pull the book from his hands, but the second her fingers touched the page he clapped the thing closed and stared at her with a gaze of pure hatred.

"Nothing _you _would understand," he hissed, now close enough for Mikan to be able to see her reflection in his suitably bookish glasses, "So don't touch my book."

"OooOoo, stressy," she jeered, "what will you do to me if I do, _library boy?_" and then stuck her tongue out at him: she ate boys like this for breakfast.

Natsume glowered and then snatched Mikan's book off the counter, scanning it into the library system and then quickly typing in a series of codes. As if by magic a buzzer sounded and Natsume turned back to Mikan with a menacing smirk.

"It seems this book is overdue," he sneered, "the fine will be-" before he could finish Mikan had pulled the novel out of his hands and flipped it open to the first page.

"It is _not_ overdue!" she whispered furiously and pointed to the date stamped in there, but Natsume only shrugged and pointed at the computer screen.

"Not what _that_ says," he announced snottily, and as much as she wanted to jump over the desk and box his ears, and she _would_, she couldn't risk being banned from the library and begrudgingly gave in, paying him out of her carefully budgeted wages.

"You are such a jerk," she spat as she handed over the money he'd embezzled off her, "a _dorky _jerk." Natsume glared at her and then raised a hand to push his glasses up his nose self-consciously in a moment of classic geek.

Mikan grinned as she watched him and scorned upon how the glasses were the _least _of his problems: Natsume (aka library boy) had a nest of dark hair that hung so far over his eyes so you barely saw his lame glasses in the first place; it was always such a mess she doubted he'd ever brushed it since he left home; he had ink and newspaper print stains on his fingers all the time, and he wore disastrous jumpers that looked like they were knitted by his mother. He was just a _dork_,in plain_._

"Better than being a dumb slut," he muttered as she was walking away, but she caught it and whirled back around indignantly.

"Well at least I don't go around thinking I'm better than everyone else all the time!" she snapped at him, upsetting people trying to study in the library as she shattered the 'silence' policy. "And at least I'm not actually an ugly geeky jerk who can't even get a girlfriend!" she yelled and Natsume cocked a single eyebrow at her, as if to say 'oh really?', and the corner of his mouth twisted up in something far from a smile.

Mikan had thought she was right in an assumption that the reason Natsume was never _ever _seen to be hanging out with girls was because he was useless at talking to them and, like many of his kind, socially awkward – but she had in fact only scratched the surface.

"Silence in the library please." Was his only, stony, reply, and with it Mikan stormed off into the library to get out the books Hotaru had asked her to check out.

"…Let's see…" she said to herself as she found the neglected and secluded section of the library that housed all the heavy-going technical reference books, "…sciences…chemistry…engineering…microbiology…necrology…nanobiology…nanomechanics…aha! Nanotechnology!" she triumphed as she found the first book on the list Hotaru had given her, and ticking it off proudly moved on to find the next title '_robotics and synthetics'_.

However, when she got to the right place she found out it wasn't there – it was either put away somewhere on the wrong shelf or already taken out, and as she definitely did _not _want to have to deal with that awful library kid again, so she just picked up the book next to it and hoped that it would do.

"What on earth are _you_ doing here?" a scathing voice suddenly inquired as she was about to add the second not-listed book to her pile, "the _crap_ is put out in the troughs at the front."

Mikan turned around and was unsurprised to see that stupid jerkish library kid standing at the end of the corridor with a large stack of text-books in his hands, the top of which being the very one that she was looking for.

So he was good for at least one thing: being a shelf.

"Oh there it is!" she said gleefully and ran towards him to yank the book away from his grasp, "It is none of your business what I am doing here. I am simply a customer looking for some books on nanombology…nanama…na…no…te…" She floundered pitiably.

"Nanotechnology?" he supplied dryly, and turning away started to put the books in his arms onto the shelves.

"Whatever." She snapped in embarrassment, and wished that all Hotaru's books weren't right at the _back _of the library where no one _ever _came and didn't all have super-long words in the title.

"If you need something to prop up the corner of a table don't use the library books," Natsume remarked sarcastically as he proved unable to allow the two of them to just dislike one another in silence, "I know you won't be _reading_ them."

"How do you 'know'?!" Mikan accused angrily, "you have no idea what I'm studying!" He dropped his whole pile of books on the floor with a bang and walked slowly over to Mikan; making her realize that sat behind a desk she had never realized how significantly _taller_ he was than her.

"I know a _stupid _girl like you wouldn't be able to handle something like this," he said almost threateningly, and lightly laid his finger on top of the books in her hands, and up close Mikan realized that if you squinted a bit he actually didn't have a particularly offensive face... so long as he wasn't scowling. This addition, of course, made him pig-ugly all the time.

It was as she thought this that Natsume slowly raised an arm and leant against the bookcase behind Mikan, coming forwards and closing the space between them with only the books in front of her keeping them any distance apart.

Contrary to what she had speculated, he didn't reek horribly of BO or antiseptic like 'all dorks', but he smelt of a mix of things: cologne for one, just a subtle amount that smelt vaguely spicy but was not overbearing like most of the guys she knew who used it, and books and old paper – musty but vaguely nostalgic and not overbearingly sickening, and correction fluid, which as she glanced down she saw specked across his fingertips in an explanatory way.

It took a second look up through his thin-framed glasses for her to realize he was using one of the most predatory positions on her; all he'd have to do is place his other arm on the surface behind them and he'd have effectively pinned her, and it wasn't in an entirely un-sexual way, either; for some reason this proximity harked to images of being screwed against a wall or propositioned in an alleyway: how _he _was inciting this in her was something she wouldn't be able to work out.

But Mikan unwillingly started to become a little anxious about this. After all, she had no idea what this social reject might try to do if he was trying to copy some lame seduction technique he probably _read in_ _a book._

However, Natsume only watched her through his thin frames and red irises and didn't so much as twitch, just staring at her as if he was waiting for something.

"What…t-the hell are you doing?" she stammered very slightly and he smirked again.

"Just reading," he replied allusively and then stood back up again and turned to walk away.

"Hey!" she yelped in surprise, "what's that all about!?" he stopped mid-step, and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Looking at him from behind brought to her attention that in spite of his occupation he was actually quite lean; he had one sleeve rolled up and as it hung at a slight angle she saw the tendons twist in between _noticeable _muscles on his forearm: perhaps stacking heavy books every night of the week was the nerd's workout.

"Don't go around making assumptions about people when you know nothing about them," he said darkly over his shoulder, and was about to carry on when she called after him again.

"Likewise!" she spat disdainfully, and before she could say 'nanotechnology' had both her hands under his as he pushed her hard up against the 'human biology' section of the bookcase, Hotaru's books thumping heavily to the floor.

"What depth could a cheerleader like you _possibly _have?" he snarled as she felt his leg slide between hers. "Miss dates-the-captain-of-the-football-team." Mikan herself couldn't see what was wrong with being a cheerleader or having dated Tsubasa Andou… _so_ _what _if he was the captain of the football team? He was a good player!

"Miss sleeps-with-teachers…" Natsume continued breathily, and even though Mikan wanted to fervently deny that, she _had _spent a few nights in bed with Professor Narumi over the years…

"A girl like you is totally transparent to someone like me," Natsume glowered as he ducked his head in closer to hers and she met his eyes straight on and saw something there that scared her: this must by why people avoided the library.

However, she was Mikan Sakura, who doesn't let anyone push her around and would get into any argument with the right kind of provocation.

"Is that so?" she questioned acidly, as she pulled one of her hands out from under his in a flash and reached out for his glasses, pulling them off his face and sniggering at the fact that it made him blush and fidget, "Well jerks like you are all the same to _me._" She threw his glasses across the corridor and they hit a bookcase hard and dropped to the floor.

"Though usually they try better pickup lines when they're trying to hit on me," she added bitchily, as Natsume was, after all, more or less failing in what she believed was an attempt at seducing her; probably provoked by the 'can't get a girlfriend' line she threw at him earlier. However Natsume just laughed.

"You think I'm _hitting _on you?" he scoffed, and then smiled an evil smile as he carefully grabbed her escaped hand and pinned it back to the bookcase by the wrist, and then shifted his leg so it pressed poignantly against the top of her thigh, while she wished she hadn't worn such a short skirt today and felt a powerful reminder of who really had dominance here, "How obnoxious."

"Says you," she snapped furiously, about to start screaming rape, molestation and general perversion – if nothing then at least as a precaution, "_you're _the one with the problem."

"Am I?" he jeered, "Am I _really_?" He shifted his thigh again and if it was a little in one direction it would be properly in-between her legs, and as much as she tried to pull at her hands he had too much strength wrapped up on those lean arms: she was at his mercy.

He leaned in, slightly thickening the scent of cologne rising subtly off his skin, as if it was the natural scent of his sweat or something prickish like that, and he brought his mouth close to her ear as he muttered, "I think that it's _sluts _like you in skirts like _that_ who have the problem."

His lips parted and she felt a hot rush of breath on the neck just below her ear, and this may've just been breathing out but for her it was finally crossing the line and she suddenly jerked up her knee to pound him in the groin, and when he jumped backwards to save his essentials she broke away and hit him with a punch right in the stomach, finishing as he doubled over with a conveniently-placed backhander across his right cheek. She may be a girl but she wasn't one of those pathetic little pushovers who couldn't hold their own with a bit of sexual harassment.

"Fuck you, Hyuga," she spat as she brushed herself down and bent over to pick up her books, and he wheezed with the unexpected force of her punch. On her way out of the library she 'accidentally' noticed his glasses on the floor and 'accidentally' cracked them with the heel of her shoe – the lenses weren't very thick and they shattered satisfyingly easily.

Natsume fumed and clutched his aching abdomen in an almost directionless rage, but he refused to let it lose _all _direction; only idiots became so angry they lost their purpose. He wasn't an idiot.

He watched Mikan Sakura strut away from him with seething anger hung on her last words – 'fuck you,' she'd said, and it was with a loathing and sinister grin that he muttered, "You will, Sakura_, you will._"

* * *

So, your thoughts? Like? Dislike? Leave a review and let me know!

It's rather cliche, but I'm hoping to take an old forula and add a bit of spice to it, I'm trying to have it dark without angst or drama like my other chaptered fic (which don't worry, isn't abandoned, I'm just taking a little break).

It only takes a minute of your time, so do leave a review please.

F&L


	2. II

New chapter! Okay, I'm neglecting my other Natsume/Mikan WiP, I know, but I've planned out what I have to write and I _will _get there, I'm just taking a hiatus for a bit to get the inspiration back.

Okay, I'm going to add few things about the setting of this story to try to answer any questions you might have after the chapter ends (so you can get on with reading it now) so watch out for that.

Otherwise enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"Ahh! Mikan!" hollered Sumire, one of Mikan's friends from school, as she stormed out of the Library that day after being harassed by the creepy boy who worked there, "Mikan-chan!" Mikan whirled around to see Sumire waving to her cheerfully.

"Good morning Sumire-chan!" she called back brightly as she ran over; she would try not to let her bad mood ruin the day, so she made sure to smile as she asked, "what's up?"

"You want to come on a goukon with me after school, don't you?" she gushed persuasively, "I've organized one with some really cute boys from the school down the road: all the girls there are totally frigid, and they want to meet some _fun_ girls like us."

When Sumire said this, she didn't literally mean that they'd go along and leap into bed with the boys – oh unless suppose they were _super _cute – it was just that Mikan and Sumire weren't the kind to bother wasting time playing the blushing shy flower in front of guys.

Because they knew boys liked girls who could hold more than one drink, who could talk openly about sex; girls who wouldn't leave before it got dark and who might offer them the chance of at least getting a kiss or two for a night's worth of money spent and partying. They _actually_ thought it was pretty rude to coast on a boy's money all evening and leave without so much as a goodbye kiss, it didn't hurt anyone, did it?

So _sure _they occasionally engaged in enko and once in a while flirted with a man in the right kinda way to get them to buy something expensive for them, because it wasn't like either of them had much spending money. But they weren't prostitutes or anything: they had a firm rule to only sleep with boys they were properly going out with, and the rest was just fair game.

"Hm, sure, I'll go," Mikan replied after a moment's thought: she'd be no better than _that_ weirdo if she didn't go out and have _normal_ social interaction. A goukon would be fun.

"Neh, Sumire?" Mikan asked a few hours later, at lunch, as her friend enviously eyed other people's food (she was on a diet) and repainted her nails, "do you know anything about that kid who works in the library?" Sumire's hand jerked suddenly and she painted an ugly smear across one of her fingers, but she didn't seem to notice this as she turned to Mikan and hissed.

"_Where _did you hear about that!" she spat hatefully, and Mikan recoiled in surprose.

"What? Calm down," she urged, "what are you talking about? I just…uh, saw him today and wondered who shoved that stick so far up his ass." Sumire's catlike eyes narrowed as she stared intensely at Mikan as if trying to pick out a liar, and then finally her face relaxed.

"What? Oh, nothing," she laughed, and then darkly added, "Believe me, the stick doesn't come out, _ever_."

"What? You mean he's _always _like that?" Mikan gaped, only sparing a few moments to wonder why Sumire had such good authority on the subject – Sumire had good authority on _all_ the boys in the school: Alices, sexual preferences, hobbies: everything.

"Yep," she clipped as Nonoko-chan wordlessly shifted into the seat next to her and she cattily informed her 'this seat's taken' and shooed her away.

"Hey, what was that for?" Mikan questioned; sure Nonoko could be a bit of a drag from time to time, but that didn't give Sumire an excuse to be a bitch about it.

"Duh, it's saved for _him_," Sumire swooned, and then looked poignantly over her shoulder and snapped it back again, "Ahh! is he looking at me?!"

"What? Who?" Mikan asked dumbly, and Sumire kicked her shin and hissed, "Nogi-kun of course! Is he looking?" Mikan looked over Sumire's shoulders for Nogi Ruka, and spotted the bleached-haired boy walking with his back to them.

"I see him, but he's not looking," she replied, and noticing Sumire's downcast face said, "Why are we going on a goukon if you're still into him?"

"Duh," she huffed, "I'm doing the old _make them jealous by seeing another man _trick."

Mikan laughed. "You have to actually have talked to them first." Sumire glared at her.

"That part will come once he's madly jealous over me," she explained impatiently, "and besides, I can still have fun, can't I?"

"Yes, definitely," Mikan cheered, and then glancing back in Ruka's direction noticed that he'd sat down at a table that only one other person sat at, one other person who was staring _straight _at her like she was his long-lost daughter or something; someone who probably shouldn't have been able to see her considering she broke his glasses only earlier that day, and by the looks of things he didn't have any spares.

"Oh god, _he's _there," Mikan cursed, and Sumire swept her curled hair around to stare off in the same direction, "Hyuga," Mikan snapped, "he's looking at me like I killed his dog." Sumire looked between them both curiously, and then she went horribly red and snapped her head back when Natsume shot the tiniest flicker of a glance at her.

"_Did_ you?" she questioned as she tried to hide her horrible (and mysterious) blush, "He looks pretty pissed off. You said you were in the Library today…"

"It's a really stupid story," Mikan interrupted, a little ashamed of what had happened and missing Sumire's sudden odd behaviour.

"And?" she probed, explaining that Mikan's answer wasn't sastifactory.

"Well… I was giving back a book, right? And he was acting like a total jerk for _no reason_, so I called him a few names, and then he followed me started trying to _get_ with me or something," Sumire nodded somewhat knowingly but with appropriate horror.

"For real? So what did you do?" she asked.

Mikan laughed, "I smacked him silly of course, who does he think he _is_?" Sumire grinned.

"You go girl!" she cheered, and then hunching over in that secretive way again said, "he's a bit…" vaguely, and as Mikan looked at her in curiosity she blushed again. Now Mikan knew Sumire, she wasn't the kind to be embarrassed by _talking _about someone, especially if she didn't even have a crush on them like she did on Nogi-kun. Mikan smelled a rat.

"What? Why're you so edge talking about him… what's his name Hyuga Natsume or something?"

"Ashshshsh!" Sumire hissed, "don't _say _it like that!" Mikan smelled a _big _rat.

"What then? How do you know him? What were you gonna say just now?" she quickfired questions at her and Sumire got more and more flustered.

"Look!" she finally snapped, "I was just saying he's a bit… _intense _is all…" She was hiding something, Mikan could tell she was, but she wouldn't be able to drag it out of her if she didn't want to tell her, so she had to drop the subject in the end.

"He's a total freak," she said nonchalantly, and in-between stuffing mouthfuls of bread into her mouth for comfort Sumire muffled "Stay away from him, Mikan." As if he had some kind of disease.

"What do you know about him?" she asked, "Seriously, tell me."

"I don't wanna talk about it," Sumire choked as she swallowed her mouthful with guilty difficulty, "just drop it, eh, Mikan?" Mikan held her gaze for a while and then eventually gave in.

"Fine, whatever." She shrugged, and looking back up she noticed both Natsume and Ruka were gone. "Good riddance," she muttered to herself, and took a sip from a bottle of juice.

Sumire took a sip from a bottle a little later, only it wasn't so much of a 'sip' as a glug, and it wasn't so much 'juice' as beer.

"_Kanpaii!_" she squealed delightfully as she swung off the neck of a boy who looked more scared than interested, and the 'joker' from the other group made groping motions at her butt.

"Hey! Cut that out!" Mikan cried playfully, and took a much more moderate sip from a beer herself – after all, this was the only thing she'd be able to buy herself all night, so she'd have to make it last.

Mikan's dad had died when she was a little girl, and her mom had brought through a few 'new dad's' during Mikan's childhood - not that there was anything wrong with them, she just never really felt like they actually wanted to know her so didn't make much of an effort with them. But when she turned sixteen and her Mom met a guy that not only did she _really _love, like she'd loved Mikan's dad - but who unfortunately lived in Hokkaido - Mikan didn't want to hold her back, even though she wanted to stay in Tokyo and finish school. So because her step-dad was quite well off they left Mikan behind in her and her mom's old apartment and paid all the bills while they moved back up North and lived in his home.

It wasn't like she was totally abandoned: she still talked to her mom on the phone a lot, and had relatives and family friends she could go to if she needed anything, but other than that she lived on her own – and had to deal with all her own food budgets. She worked part-time in a call centre, but it didn't pay much and she had to leave time out to study enough to keep her head overwater at school, so she was always a bit low on cash. Thus the occasional enko, and a half-brewed plan to work in a hostess bar when she turned eighteen.

And rationing her drinks, bringing her back to the current situation – Sumire had a small allowance from her parents but she spent a lot frivolously so they were usually both as broke as each other.

Mikan bet herself that _Hyuga's_ parents gave him anything he wanted, and then scowled as she realized she was thinking about him _again_. To be fair he had practically molested her only earlier that day, but it wasn't like things like that usually got to her. She frowned and took a swig of her beer.

"What's up with that face, Mikan-chaaaan?!" Sumire yelled as she noticed Mikan's lacklustre performance tonight, usually she and Mikan were the centre of attention in any goukon, but tonight it was just her, and everyone else was either still whispering about the boys/girls or shyly paired off somewhere exchanging email addresses.

"Nothing, Sumire-chaaaaaan," Mikan echoed her back playfully with a sudden and brilliant grin, but Sumire knew all too well that she was putting it on. She slid away from the boy she was with and crammed herself in the seat next to Mikan, dropping her long legs over her lap to fit in as she leant close to her.

"What issit, Mikaaan?" she whispered, "What's botherin' you?" Mikan could tell easily enough she was a little drunk, but Sumire was still Sumire.

"I was just thinking about that stupid Hyuga kid again," she muttered eventually, and she felt Sumire fidgeting in her lap.

"What? Noo, oh nooo," she moaned as she covered her eyes with her hands, "Who told you about that? I didn't mean it I didn't…" She started to breathe a little heavier and Mikan felt she was close to finding out why Sumire was so cagey about him. "Not Hyuga Natsume, _don't_, stay _away _from him," she blurted to Mikan over-affectionately, "he's bad news, I tell you!" She changed tack again and became subdued and guilty. "I didn't _mean _to," she whispered to Mikan, "he was just so…"

"Didn't mean to what?" she asked in confusion, and Sumire stared at Mikan like she'd just asked where the clowns were in the state ballet.

"To _do_ him," she clipped with a dry lump in her throat, and then dumped her head on Mikan's shoulder, "…So _stupid_," she hissed, and Mikan returned the boy's looks of confusion with a 'hey, nothing to do with me' shrug.

"I think Sumire-chan is ready to go home," said Mikan, much to the disappointment of the hopeful would-be's.

"Aww, don't be like that, baby, stay and party!" one boy tried, but Mikan shot him a 'not now' look as she bundled Sumire onto her side and they began to walk out of the bar. It was a school night anyway.

"We'll do this again soon, okay?" she said cheerfully, and the remaining lads nodded or cheered, all offering her their phone numbers and email addresses eagerly.

As soon as they were outside Mikan had Sumire against the wall.

"You _slept _with him?!" she barked, and Sumire's face was red enough for her not to need to answer.

"It was an accident!" she wailed.

"How?" She honestly couldn't see how, why, or _when _Sumire had broken their rule – obviously she hadn't been out with him, so she _must _have broken the rule.

"Well… I… just, I mean…" Sumire panicked, "he's friends with…!" she blurted, and a piece of the puzzle became clear to Mikan.

"Nogi-kun?" she snatched the words from her, "Did you do it because you thought Nogi-kun would get jealous of you?" That was low, absolutely low, and Sumire looked back at Mikan with an equal amount of horror she was holding her in.

"No! I never planned that!" she rushed, "I just thought… he's so dorky-looking, I thought it'd be easy to get close to him, and I mean, you see how he hangs out with Nogi-kun…"

"You thought you could use him to get closer to Nogi-kun?" Sumire nodded bashfully.

"But I never meant to do anything with him, I never even _thought _about it, I was just going to be a bit friendly… you know, fun… and use that to talk to him…you know what I mean...." Mikan knew; there was nothing wrong with befriending the friend of a guy you liked, was there? A little bit of friendly flirting never hurt anyone, and it was a good way to meet a guy you were too shy to approach straight on (not that it happened to _her_ much).

"Well then, _how _did you end up sleeping with him?" she asked, exasperated. Sumire was no less red.

"I… I don't know," she mumbled, "he just… like, _gets _to you or something, I started talking to him coming out of the Library and…"

"Wait," interrupted Mikan, "when was this?"

"Uh, maybe last winter?" Sumire guessed, and Mikan tried to think back – surely she would've noticed something odd about Sumire if she'd been breaking the rules behind her back.

"How could you… oh!" she snapped in surprise, "When you took that week off?" Sumire nodded.

"Yeah, I had to, like, see some places about some _things_…" she muttered vaguely, and Mikan gleaned what she meant at once.

"You mean you went to the clinic?" she shot razorblade quick, and Sumire's red face and upset quivering was answer enough.

Mikan slapped her in the face.

"You did it bareback?!" she screamed in horror, and grabbed Sumire's shoulders and bashed her against the wall – not hard, but enough to frighten, "What were you _thinking?!"_ Sumire's face gleamed in the streetlight and Mikan realized she was crying.

"I don't know," she wept, and then Mikan was all arms and hugs as she let Sumire cling to her and sob, "I just don't know… I wasn't thinking… he just…and it went so fast... and..."

"Don't say anymore," Mikan muttered, her anger barely in control; she _knew _Sumire, and she knew that if Sumire was like _this _then someone was going to be responsible. She was a good girl, a fun girl, a _loud_ girl, but not a yanki or a bad daughter orfriend.

She didn't regret things she did either, if she slept with a boyfriend who'd turned out to be a bad guy, or agreed to go somewhere with a man who turned out to be a pervert only looking to take her to a Love Hotel; she might be mad, but she didn't _regret _it – it was her decision to do it, so she'd stand by that.

But if she was like _this_, then she was regretting it, and she only regretted things she hadn't _thought _about first. Because someone had been pushing her into it, most likely.

Either way, _Hyuuga Natsume _suddenly had a lot to answer for.

_-END of chapter two-_

* * *

The AU explained.

* * *

Armor Ultios Est is 'Love is Vengeance' in Latin, it will have significance in the story.

This story is AU with harkings to the canon. Events, themes and situations from the manga/anime will feature, but think of it as an alternate Alice Academy, but set in the real world with a few Alice-y twists to it and some differences to canon-setup (which I will explain).

It is set in an Alice Academy High-school. Alices do exist and will play a part, but it will not be exactly as shown in the manga. The High-school is not part of one giant campus (to be fair that estate wouldn't have realistically fit in central Tokyo), and the students live at home (or alone as in Mikan's case).

The High-school is a Japanese High-school, so I will try to make it as realistic to that as possible.

Natsume and Mikan did not meet age 10 and the events of the Manga did not directly happen, however some of them are transposed (e.g. Mikan sleeping in a bed with Narumi-sensei) into this story's universe.

(Small point but I feel the need to mention it) Ruka isn't a pure blond, it's (previously light but also) bleached/lightened for more realisim. Even a half wouldn't be likely to have pure blond hair, so Ruka is a bottle-blond :P

Mikan and Hotaru _do _have a friendship, but it is not exactly the same as shown in the manga/anime. Hotaru also is Mikan's tutor, and she is not at the same school as Mikan and Sumire.

Sumire, or 'Permy' _is _Mikan's friend, probably her closest friend (in school at least) and she obviously enough has harkings of her old Natsume-Ruka fanclub roots, but as you will have read not in the same way. I think that without the catalyst of Natsume Mikan and Sumire had every chance to become friends.

A _Goukon _is a group date, where groups of boys and girls meet up specifically to look for someone of the opposite (in this situation) sex.

_Enko _is a shortened term for 'Enjo Kosai' and it means 'compensated dating', i.e. young girls going out with males (usually older) and being paid for their time, either in money or goods. It does not necessarily mean prostitution, although it can go that way, but it can also be things like groups of girls going for karaoke with older men and being paid for it. Sumire and Mikan have occasionally done Enko, but they do not offer sexual acts for money.

_Yanki _is slang for a subculture of japanese youth that are basically like thugs and rebels with a strong gang mentality, they have bikes, sniff paint thinner and cause general havoc. None of the major characters in the story are Yanki, it was just a passing mention.

When Mikan asks if Sumire did it 'bareback' she means having unprotected sex (with Natsume). Thus seeing the clinic mean a Sexual Health clinic for STI-checks and the morning-after pill etc.

One reviewer commented on not liking Mikan's attitude/personality. Well, I hope this chapter has given Mikan a little more depth, and explains why she's quite tough and sassy. I think this respects canon because 10 year old Mikan is very outspoken and feisty, so this is how I think it would translate into this age and context. I'll focus more on Natsume next chapter I think.

The characters are in their last year of Japanese High-school, so that makes them 17/18, and preparing for University entrance exams. In response to another reviewers question they are physically the same as they are in the manga/anime, barring Natsume's glasses and to a certain extent Ruka's hair.

Sorry to rant on so much, but I think the setting of this story will make following chapters more in-context and I don't want to have to waste time in the story explaining these things.

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Leave a review (please) to let me know what you think, sorry to have taken up your valuable reading-time with all that information, I'm not actually trying to give y'all Japanese culture lessons O.o


	3. III

Updated! My laptop crashed a few hours after I posted the second chapter, so luckily for you guys I didn't lose any progress. This was written today at college; I love how easy I find it to write, it's such a natural and self-propelling process.

Now, I understand that Mikan still seems strong-willed and possibly unlikable in this chapter, but I personally quite admire her for her strength. If you find yourself hating her try to think about what you would do in her situation, and I find Natsume particularly criminal in this :P

However! If you find the characters offensive, I am proud to say that is more or less the point, they _are _rather offensive people right now, and the point of this story will be how they are able to make each other into better people.

That said, enjoy the chapter. It has a fair amount of N/Mness (of a kind) in it.

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Mikan sat at a table at lunch, pushing her food around her plate, and stared at Hyuga Natsume. He was sitting in the same seat as he had the other day, but she had chosen one tucked away in the corner of the room where he wouldn't notice her.

"Mikan, don't do it," Sumire pleaded tiredly, "it's all in the past, right? I made a mistake and I'll have to live with it, but don't drag it all back up." Mikan was silent, and wearily Sumire said, "You're still going to talk to him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Mikan replied tonelessly, and then with a little more fire lighting up in her eyes said, "I mean, just _who _does he think he is? I'm sorry but I think jerks who do stuff like _that _shouldn't be able to get away with it." Sumire had told Mikan the full story now, and although she was justified in saying that it probably wasn't right Hyuga in doing what he did, only she - with her inescapable stubbornness and blunt righteousness - would try to start something with him _now _of all times.

Mikan believed that no matter how old a crime was the perpetrator deserved his comeuppance no matter what. It was always the same with her.

Sumire wouldn't really openly admit it, but the fact that Mikan cared so much about what had happened to her and simply wouldn't drop the issue made her feel glad to have such a good friend. She knew that if things really went bad for her that Mikan would always be there to back her up, and to be fair, she had always been like this - forthright, speaks her mind, vigilante-ish.

"Well... I guess I can't stop you," Sumire sighed, and Mikan grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, I just can't stand him," she confessed, "this gives me even more reason to hate him." She pushed her plate away and stood up, and Sumire's eyes widened.

"Wait! Mikan! What are you... not _here_!" she hissed as Mikan dodged Sumire's clawing for her and began to walk across the lunch hall; wolf whistles and the occasional whisper of 'it's _her_' following behind her. She couldn't help what other people thought about her, and if she wanted to wear her school uniform in a way _she _thought looked good and made _her _feel good about herself, then giving into the odd 'slut' comment would just be conforming to the rest of them.

Natsume spotted her coming and curiosity ran hot in his veins - his anger towards her was no less than it had been the day before yesterday, and the fact that he felt himself staring at her short skirt and un-buttoned shirt with a salty lust only served to make him angrier – how _dare _she make him want her.

She stopped by his table, people now looking around to see why one of the hottest girls in school was staring down the library kid, and leant over it to put her hands flat on it and glare at Natsume even more intensely. This also gave him a fantastic view down her shirt to a black-on-white lacy bra with some kind of gemstone hanging between the cups. _Tacky, tacky slut_, he thought to himself, but he still couldn't stop staring, and _wanting_.

"Hey, _Hyuga_," Mikan clipped cheerfully and sweetly, and a few murmurs ran around confirming that _yes_, Sakura 'fun times' Mikan was talking to Hyuga 'don't talk to me' Natsume.

Natsume didn't reply, and just stared at her like she was shit on the bottom of his shoe.

"Aw, you shy or something?" she jeered with a little more acid to her tone, and within seconds Natsume had snapped back, "I don't waste time." _talking to sluttish wastes of space_ he thought afterwards, but he knew that he shouldn't speak his full mind now or he'd risk balking his entire revenge plan.

"What?" she replied air-headedly.

"My thoughts exactly," he echoed snobbishly, "_'What'_ do you want with me?"

"I just wanna talk," she said, back to her normal friendly tone, "you don't mind _talking _to me, do you?" She tapped her foot on the floor and waited for Natsume to come up with an answer.

"Fine," he said shortly, but looking around at the many pairs of eyes watching them said, "you 'wanna' do it here?" he mocked her tone carelessly, like he didn't realise he was even doing it, and Mikan rolled her eyes with dry irritation.

"Well, not if you get embarrassed with everyone watching," she hinted suggestively, and they both knew something had been started.

"I don't mind," he replied hotly, "I'm sure all the guys have seen it before." Meaning seen _you_, to Mikan, and she wondered why he was so vicious about her being 'loose', not that she was, mind; she didn't do things with boys she didn't know, she didn't have meaningless sex or make out with guys she had no interest in - but because of the way she dressed and the fact that she _didn't _stay home all night like a good girl, and did it for her own reasons most of them didn't even know about - people like him seemed to hate her guts.

"Feeling particularly jerkish today then," she stated, as opposed to questioning, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"For you, _always_," he hissed darkly, "I haven't forgotten."

"Forgotten what?" she asked teasingly innocently, knowing full well he meant the slight mark that was still on his cheek and his brand new set of glasses.

"You know wha-"

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" she cut in with a flirtatious edge that she'd sharpened to a point. Natsume considered his options, and replied in the positive.

"Why not," he spat, and shoving his lunch away he stood up, now reminding her of the whole head's height he had over her. Their spectators were both confused and interested.

The door was closer to Natsume, so Mikan had to relent on a point and follow _him _to the door, but it wasn't without observing the messy shirt ends sticking out from the bottom of his jumper and his obviously unironed pants - he looked disgusting, as usual.

He practically punched the swinging doors to open them and they flew back with a loud bang; library boy was anti-social as ever today.

"Why _thank you_," Mikan simpered as she passed through the open doors; enraging Natsume by acting like he'd opened them for her.

"Don't flatter yourself," he huffed, and then as they passed into a relatively quite corridor turned around, only to lose balance and stumble as a hand lashed out and pulled his glasses off his face once more: she seemed to have a penchant for doing that.

Mikan smashed the things into the wall - they didn't break, but they did make some satisfying crunching sounds.

"So what makes you so different, huh?" she spat aggressively, now their audience was gone she wasn't holding back on her anger; before she hadn't wanted to make a scene but now she had a free rein to abuse him as much as she felt necessary. "What makes you so _fucking _special, Hyuga?"

"Uh?" he grunted in confusion: to be fair there were a lot of things that made him special, and _better _than others, but he doubted that was what she was talking about. "What are you...?"

"So you think you can fuck girls and get away with it? Not have any payback?" she went on, and he realized instantly what must've gone on.

"Been talking to your friend?" he leered carelessly, "that took a while to come out, huh?" He knew that Mikan hung around with Sumire most of the time, and he guessed that she had finally found out about their run-in last winter. Not that it meant anything to him.

"Don't act like it's a fucking game!" she yelled and squeezed his glasses tighter in her hand, her other hand fisting on the collar of his jumper, "did you even _think _about what could've happened to her, huh?" Mikan tightened her fist, and Natsume allowed her to without resistance - that could come later. "You didn't even have the manners to use contraception!" she accused, and Natsume smirked.

"That's a big word, I'm surprised you even know what it is," he sneered, and then stopped as she slapped him.

"Don't insult my intelligence," she hissed, "I'm just looking out for my friend. Did you even think about what you could've done?" Natsume paused for a moment as if to think on the subject, then smirked again.

"No," he said proudly, "not for a second."

Mikan hit him again. Perhaps it was too far for her to go, but she couldn't believe that he could be so offhand about something that was so obviously serious. It was insulting to both her and Sumire.

"You upset my friend," she threatened darkly, "so I _want_ you to apologise." She wouldn't try to punish him herself, or just meaninglessly beat him senseless – she _was_ better than that, but she at least wanted him to apologise to Sumire.

"I don't apologise," he announced smugly, and she pushed him back.

"Then you're even worse than I thought," she spat, "I've never seen her that upset, _you _made her feel that bad about herself, so…"

"That wasn't what _she _said at the time," he retorted arrogantly, and he leant into her fist assertively, "because I'm pretty sure she felt pretty fucking good at the time, she came hard enough-" Mikan pushed again and his back hit the wall.

"Don't say anymore!" she yelled, "I don't wanna hear it, she _told _me what happened and you took advantage of her-" It was Natsume's turn to cut in this time.

"Don't assume you know the whole story, bitch," he sneered, "I didn't do anything with that slut that she didn't _want _anyway; nor did any of your other pathetic friends…" He then went on to start naming girls in the school and friends of Mikan – she understood that he seemed to be giving her a list of people he'd slept with, but she couldn't accept it.

She didn't want to accept thinking that _this _boy, this weird, anti-social, better-than-thou-attitude'd geek, who spent most of his time in the Library and only had one friend, had actually slept with so many girls – and girls that she knew.

"Liar!" she accused, but the look in his eye didn't make it seem like he was.

"Ask them," he said coolly, "they won't deny it." He paused for a moment and she became aware that they were very close together in a hallway alone, and that it could be read the wrong way if you didn't know how much they hated each other.

"Why?" she demanded suddenly, and appeared to catch him off guard.

"Why?" he echoed vaguely.

"Yeah, 'why?' your fucking ears broken?" she cursed.

Natsume thought for another moment, and then with a simple shrug of the shoulders said, "Because I can."

Mikan was horrified, to be honest; she couldn't believe that _this _was what he was really like. Sure, he was anti-social to most people, and rude to many, but she'd never heard about him being some kind of nymphomaniac sociopath with a serious attitude problem. Before she could think of anything else, suddenly Natsume's hands were on her wrists and he flipped her around, so that her back was pressed hard against the wall as he leant into her heavily.

"Why," he murmured breathily just above her ear as he pushed her wrists against the wall by her sides, and she realized he'd pinned her again, "you wanna try me?" She felt the pressure of his body against hers and was instantly all muscle and struggling and pushing, arms flailing and legs stepping away and _away_ until she was able to tear herself free and backpedal across the hallway.

"Like hell I do!" she screamed, more frightened than angry – she was so confused by his appearance – he looked so goddamn weird most of the time, but he talked and acted and _felt _like a professional player: perhaps this was what Sumire meant when she said he was 'intense'.

"For your information," she said a little calmer, as Natsume crossed his arms over his chest in a bored kind of way, "I don't fuck people I don't know."

"You know my name," he retorted like that was _all_ she meant, and she threw his glasses back at him (not hard but angry).

"I don't mean your name," she spat, "I, this isn't saying I'd ever willingly touch you in a million years or anything, but _I _only sleep with people I'm actually _dating_." Natsume was quiet. "So," she continued anxiously, "you could give all that 'slut' talk a rest too, because if you're not lying then you're a hundred times worse than I am." Natsume grinned in a sick way.

"_I'm _not a girl," he said proudly, "so it doesn't apply."

"It does!" she yelled back, "you think that you get away with it just 'cause you're a guy? Well guys like you make me _sick_!" Natsume started walking towards her again, and fast, so Mikan started to pace away to keep her distance.

He caught her wrist and pulled her to a stop, and then with a truly hateful burn in his eyes said, "_Sluts _like _you _make me sick." He panted heavily as if he'd lost his breath. "Dressing up like that and flirting like you're gifts to the goddamn world," he spat, "you _know _how it affects men and that's exactly why you do it." He wound her in to him threateningly, his hand an iron grip on her wrist. "You're manipulative _sluts_, the lot of you." He could now catch her with his other arm, looping it around her waist and pulling her tight against his body.

"It's what you get off on, isn't it?" he hissed just inches from her face, and Mikan's eyes widened with realization.

"Ha!" she laughed boldly, "ha ha!" she smiled wide and Natsume's rage waned in the place of confusion and a loss of self-assurance, "It's what_ I_ get off on?" she repeated in a laughable way, and then trained her eyes back on him hotly, and said, "You know what, _Natsume_? I think it's what _you _get off on."

His grip had loosened by now, and she was easily able to pry herself out of his arms and walk off without looking back. Natsume was frozen to the spot, a lost and deeply disturbed look upon his face.

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Leave a review please! The reviews last chapter were a bit thin on the ground, so if you are reading this right now then _please _click that button below this line and leave just a few words letting me know what you think of this, or if you want to read more. If I don't get any reviews then honestly I'll just lost faith and stop writing :( and I don't want that either.

F&L


	4. IV

Updated at last, my laptop bust out on me last week, and I got a new one this saturday, oh, it's so sexy. Yes, I said it. It's sexy.

That aside, I was finally able to crack on with this (longer than usual) chapter. I'm upping the rating, because Natsume is incapable of not requiring a big fat M stamp on his little nymphomanic forehead.

But pushing on, enjoy the chapter!

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Natsume was, to use a rather tired phrase, speechless.

_"You know what, Natsume? I think it's what __**you **__get off on."_

Even though Mikan was gone now, he couldn't for the life of him even _move_ from the shock.

…Could she be right?

He told himself it was impossible, no way would a dumb bitch like that be able to see into someone like _him_: she had to be talking out of her ass. She _had _to be wrong.

But… he _was _aware that he was the most turned on by girls who flaunted it – the really overtly slutty ones; ones with the shortest skirts and biggest breasts and flirtiest mannerisms. Because those were the ones he really loved to dominate… like her friend, Sumiko or whatever her name was.

He'd been on top of _her _right from the start, right from the moment when she started talking to him for the sole purpose of meeting Ruka. He wasn't stupid, he saw straight through it, and this girl was such an _example _of her kind – flirty, attractive, drank, partied, made out with boys in corridors, and had all the guys she'd been out with boasting in class about the things she'd done to them. Right away he _wanted _her.

And the only reason that he actually _wanted _her was just to prove that he could have her – his image in school was less than acceptable: guys tripped him up, girls laughed at his appearance, teachers acted like he only wanted to study and gave him extra work – but the joke was on _them_, because he could play up to that image as much as he wanted, and still run circles around the lot of them.

It had started in middle school, when, being a bookish boy who didn't socialize well with others, the bullies of the class started to make fun of him. At first it bothered him, but soon he couldn't care less, because whenever tests came around he would get a perfect score and the Neanderthals were still bashing their heads against rocks.

Naturally, the fact that he was smart only made other kids want to bully him more, but soon he started to smile, even when he was being beaten up, because he knew that they just were doing it out of their own pathetic inadequacies, and that he was _leagues _and _leagues _above them all.

Although, it could be said that the one time he needed help studying – and wasn't _naturally _getting perfect scores on all the exams, perhaps falling into rank with the rest of them _temporarily_, led to one of the more significant events in his life.

The girl his parents hired to tutor him was the daughter of a family friend, and, as Natsume discovered, chosen on the basis that being three years older than him she must be smarter and able to teach him. As it turned out, she was an average student at best, and had nothing to teach Natsume that he didn't know already.

Or so he thought, because if Yuri had _one _thing she was good at, it was fucking.

And _yes_, she fucked him. A lot.

Pretty soon most of the time they spent in his room 'studying' was spent in the many stages of naked, and Natsume was studying the female body and its subtle intricacies. Yuri taught him almost everything he knew, from how to undo a bra with one hand to just _where _biting was good; from the different positions and their various benefits to the ins and outs of oral sex, and from the nipples of her generous breasts to the dips of her hipbone Natsume learnt more than he'd ever imagined possible.

It was _coincidentally_ the first year he failed an exam, and after that his parents sacked Yuri and sent him to cram school every day of the week instead. Needless to say his grades picked up in no time, but that was where he first started harvesting the shy studious girls who also attended classes there, and when he began to refine his tools and technique of playing the game.

Just like Sumire – dumb slut – she wasn't good enough for Ruka, but he'd played along with it anyway, pretending he didn't realize her ulterior motives and agreeing to make plans to see him later that evening and to invite her along: she didn't realize for a second he wouldn't do anything of the sort.

Then she turned up, tarted up in a way that had him even more determined to have her _that night,_ and he was the only one there, slothed out across a sofa in a loose shirt and jeans – his hair messy but in a way that had every unruly spike planned out carefully to look carefully attractive: he saw her staring, and he knew she'd noticed. He said that Ruka had plans at the last minute, when in fact he'd never asked him at all, and then, at first shyly, like he was doing this for the first time, he asked if maybe she'd stay a while with _him_ – after all it would be such a waste for her to go home now, not when she'd made herself look so 'cute'.

He saw her reacting subty as he complimented her, and he knew he was in. Outside of school girls would fool themselves out of thinking about him as a 'dork', and then it was just a case of plying her with a few drinks (not too many though) and piling on the accidental touches, the underhand compliments, the ever-so-slightly flirtatious suggestions. He turned it up slowly, like heat on a thermostat, and it became more predatory, more demanding; he'd put his leg against hers and then say sorry in an unconvincing voice, and let his fingers linger on any part of her that he could, as if he didn't notice he was doing it, and wasn't actually planning every single moment.

She fell for it, she fell for it so pathetically; she said things like 'you don't seem like this at school' and 'you're so different now... _Natsume-kun_', and if she ever started to talk about leaving he'd throw out some feeble lie about Ruka mentioning her and she was back on the hook.

Eventually he got tired of the game and really turned the heat up, and in true amoral form she didn't resist one bit – he stuck his hand up her skirt _at the table, _and she didn't mind one bit. To the contrary, she loved every goddam second of it.

From there it hadn't been hard to get her out of the bar and around the corner to a Love Hotel he knew (having used it before), but deciding – as she was a particularly splendid example of her kind – to see if he could push it just _that little bit more_, he cajoled her into sucking him off in an alleyway down the side first.

To begin with Sumire had resisted - most girls would - but saying the right things and acting in the right way was all too easy when they had the depth of a puddle, and she was gagging on him in no time: Natsume had taken particularly sick pleasure in _that_ piece of manipulation.

Then as usual, after he'd got her inside and fucked her senseless, he waited a matter of seconds before he got up to shower, leaving Sumire cold on the bed. Then when he walked out of the bathroom fully clothed and said 'you should shower too, you look a fucking state' with undisguised disgust, she realized just how badly she'd messed up.

Natsume had picked his glasses off the side table and walked out of there without saying another word, and before the door had even closed behind him Sumire was in tears - the spell was broken.

It wasn't like Hyuga Natsume had been abused as a child and wanted revenge on all women. It wasn't like his mother had an affair with the gardener and permanently scarred his opinion of them. He had a normal, if not boring, childhood and family life. His parents were good parents - sure they both worked and weren't at home much the time, but if he'd ever wanted a book, or some money, or to be driven to and from libraries and museums, they were always willing: they loved him, and they loved each other.

So it wasn't like he had any particular reason to do what he did; but, as he'd said to Mikan, he did it because he _could_ - just to see if he could, and because he honestly didn't see the point in tossing himself off when there were so many girls who'd do it for him. It was like walking past a full buffet table to pick scraps out of the trash.

He supposed he was always enacting _some _level of revenge on those who bullied him - he fucked their girlfriends better and harder than they ever did (if he could believe certain orgasmic screams he'd been party to), and even though they _acted _like they were better than him, and he was just the 'sad library kid', he had one up on them in _every way imaginable_.

The only person he thought as an equal was Ruka - he'd realized that the first time he'd been beaten in a test: he was tired having been up all the night before, and Ruka sailed past him to the top slot in class, shaking up everything he thought he knew.

"Uh...whoa," was the only thing he'd been able to say at the time, "you beat me."

"Mhm," said Ruka, a half french boy with shocking bleached highlights, who could've been expelled had it not been for his being one of the smartest (and most attractive) boys in school; who melted the hearts of girls with his dreams of pursuing veterinary medicine. "I was waiting for you to get careless." Natsume was caught off guard, because if Ruka meant what it sounded like he meant, then there was possibly someone who actually saw things the way he saw them.

"What?"

"You're wrecked, it was easy to beat you," Ruka explained with a thin smile, "I've just been waiting for the right moment to do it." It was then that Natsume learnt there was someone who _was_ almost as smart as him, and who had the awareness to play the game for what it was. From then on, they became friends, even though (for those stupid hype-based reasons that he so hated) Ruka was one of the most popular boys in school and he _wasn't_.

Ruka knew people liked him, but, much to Natsume's refreshment, he couldn't care less; they both agreed that the popularity machine was stupid, and Ruka only laughed when Natsume related stories of how easily he'd seduced girls in spite of being 'the total dork'. They got on well, to say the least.

But Mikan was messing with the system. If a... a... a _girl _could see into him and actually pull out something true, then...

No. It just couldn't be. He refused to believe it.

She was their _Queen_. No one was more talked about, or lusted after, or openly promiscuous than Sakura Mikan: she fucked a goddam teacher for heaven's sake.

Everyone knew about it – Mikan and Narumi-sensei, she didn't even bother to deny it, she just never said it was true because he'd probably lose his job if it was confirmed that over about a three-year period they'd been _more _than 'close': he'd probably go to _prison._

But that girl, that loud, stupid, _sexy _girl couldn't have any powers of insight. She'd called him a jerk, she called him a geek, she slapped him and swore at him and didn't once ever show signs of giving in when he pushed at her. She acted like she was the queen of the whole school, and...

And...

And he _would _have her.

From the moment she'd said he 'couldn't get a girlfriend' in the library that day he'd resolved to fuck her: she would _eat _her words, and probably much more.

When she resisted him on that same day he was even more determined – the fact that she'd knocked him back once meant that it was even more important that he did succeed in the end. Natsume did not tolerate losing.

However, he was no fool, and he'd learnt that simple confrontation wasn't going to get her to give in to him – she was too high up on the hierarchy to allow her position to be jeopardized so easily. He needed a new plan.

* * *

Mikan wearily unlocked her front door and dumped her shoes and bags in the hall.

"I'm home!" she called out, knowing full-well that there was no one around to hear her or to say 'welcome back' to her; not that it didn't stop her missing it.

Although she still stood by her mother's decision to follow her heart, and her own decision to finish her education and be independent, Mikan still missed having someone to come home to... and to eat meals with, and to ask for help studying from, and to say goodnight to.

She missed her mom, basically. She never mentioned it because she knew that her mom was so much happier living in Sapporo with Haruki, and she was happiest when he mom was happy, but she hated her empty house, with its empty dusty rooms and cold quiet aura. She really, really hated it.

That was why she quickly boiled a bowl of miso soup while she floated into the master bedroom (now _her _bedroom) and opened her mom's closet. Yuka never threw things out and had kept all her clothes from her youth for Mikan; she was practically still a youth when she _had _Mikan, so it wasn't like there was a long crossover period, and they had almost identical tastes in clothes and body sizes, so Mikan wore a lot of 'vintage' things, which kept her close to her mom in several ways.

She put on some brightly coloured tights and rather short shorts, and then a cute low-cut top and waistcoat she bought in Harajuku. Sliding a few chunky hair-grips into her bunches and walking back into the kitchen to pour her soup into a thermos to take out with her, she flipped open her phone and messaged Sumire, letting her know she was leaving now.

She made a few more trips back into the bedroom to put on some more makeup – with no one to tell her to tidy up the entire desk of the room was covered in a well-used assortment of the stuff – and to add some more accessories: a necklace, bracelets, wristwatch and some rings, and then while taking gulps of her 'dinner' she grabbed a coat, dragged on some electric-blue leather boots and bustled out of the door.

She hated her empty house, so she went out a lot; what was the problem with that?

"Mikan-chan!" Sumire mewled as they met up at the train station – Sumire had changed too and they now looked suitably attention-drawing. "I promise you, this time the boys are _super _cute!" she teased, and Mikan laughed and slipped her arm through Sumire's.

"You _always _say that," she replied wryly, "it's because to you they all look like Nogi-kun." Sumire shrieked in protest and jostled Mikan as their train arrived and they ran, screaming, onto it.

"Speaking of Nogi-kun," Sumire said a little more seriously, "what happened with _him_?" Him meaning the only 'him' that either of them knew.

"Oh," Mikan snapped awkwardly, "um, I dunno, nothing much..." She didn't feel like mentioning Natsume's repeated attempts to force himself on her, nor his extravagant claims about the girls he'd slept with.

Which Mikan realized, after innocently questioning a few of the friend's he'd named, were absolutely true. Not one of the girls denied having got with Natsume, and most of them were extremely evasive and embarrassed about it, saying things like 'how did you find out?' and 'But I didn't tell _anyone_!'

"What does _that _mean?" Sumire sighed.

"It means 'nothing much'!" Mikan said quickly, "I mean, I did most of the talking anyway... he's... a jerk, so... look, let's not talk about him." She couldn't say 'geek' anymore, because she knew that what was seen at school wasn't the _real _him, and the _real _him was no dork. Sumire agreed to stop talking about him wholeheartedly, and nothing more was said on the matter. Besides once they met up with the boys and went around some arcades, eventually ending up doing karaoke with a few free beers inside them, they were having too much fun to even bother _thinking _about an anti-social dor... jerk like Hyuga Natsume.

* * *

A little more background on Natsume and Mikan, the next chapter is partially written already and it has much more N/M interaction in it - I just need to get this character background done first :) Update shouldn't be too long.

_Harajuku _is the area around the Harajuku station in Tokyo, and it's where lots of hip teenagers hang out in mad and brilliant clothes/costume at the weekend, google-image it for some really cool pictures.

Leave a review please! If you're reading this story it would be really nice to hear a few words on how you like the AU, whether you think the characters resemble their canon selves, what you think about the mysterious relationship between Mikan and Narumi, anything you have to say, praise and criticism alike, is very welcome.

So **review**! :P


	5. V

This chapter blew by so quickly! I was sort of vague about how to progress things, but I really wanted to get them moving, so I just sort of let it write itself and I hope it makes sense and seems reasonable - there's a few jumps of logic in this chapter, but hopefully they all fit in and aren't too deus ex machina. It was very easy and fun to write :D That's why I'm updating prompty, to hell with harvesting reviews, I want y'all to know what happens next ;)

Enjoy the chapter, and thanks to everyone who's read and especially those who review.

* * *

"Good morning, _Hyuga_," Mikan said fake-cheerfully as she barged past Natsume with a deliberate shoulder-thump the next morning, and Natsume tightened his arms around the books he was carrying to prevent them flying everywhere in a classic cinematic dork-moment.

"_Sakura,_" he replied dryly; he was still working out his new angle to get her, so had nothing to say to her now... although, that didn't mean he couldn't admire the _angles _of the thong just visible above the waistband of her skirt. He felt his desire boil, and had to talk himself out of drawing her into a secluded spot and trying to screw her like he had before – it obviously wouldn't work, but it didn't stop him fantasising about it.

"Feel like apologising yet?" she questioned in the same happy-sappy tone, and Natsume realized she'd stopped walking to continue talking to him, which was a little unusual.

"No," he retorted darkly, and a gradual smile crossed her face as passers-by noticed that Sakura Mikan was talking to the library boy again.

"Aw, that's too bad," she said sarcastically, "and here I was ready to forgive you if you did." Natsume fumed – he would _never _apologise, and he didn't need to be forgiven by any_one_ for any_thing. _She was just being a bitch, as usual.

"Tch," he snorted; happy in his knowledge that she would do no such thing _anyway_, "why don't you just leave me alone?" Mikan raised her eyebrows at him and noticed more students watching-but-not-watching them.

"Why? It's a free country, isn't it?" she said coolly, "Why? Don't you want to talk to me?" For some inexplicable reason she didn't seem to be content in letting him ignore her until he'd decided how he was going to seduce her properly, and that alone irritated Natsume enough to snap.

"I'm sure you don't want to ruin your precious image talking to someone like me, so _piss off,_" he hissed angrily, and Mikan's shaped eyebrows shot even higher up her forehead.

"My 'image'?" she repeated curiously, "What 'image' is that?" Natsume took a threatening step towards her.

"Don't play dumb," he spat, "I know it's not a hard stretch for you but..."

"Look," she interrupted with a throwaway air, "I honestly couldn't care less if I'm 'seen talking to a _oo-geeky dork_'." She inflected her voice on the last expression to cast ridicule not on Natsume, but on the term itself. "Everyone thinks I'm a slut anyway, so what the hell difference does it make." She shrugged and gave Natsume a 'present company included' look, but he was the most taken aback by her blasé attitude towards what he thought would be the most important thing to her: reputation. She didn't sound fond of her status as a 'loose girl', and that confused Natsume because he believed that all of her type strived for that kind of notoriety on purpose.

"You might pretend to be a 'dork'," she continued, suddenly insightful, "but even _I _can tell you're not." Natsume froze: no way had Sakura Mikan just sliced through the image he'd crafted flawlessly of himself for nearly six years: _no fucking way._

"No dork I've ever heard of has strings of one-night stands and acts like a professional girl-playing _shit_," she said coolly, and Natsume still tried to deny the possibility that she might have seen through his façade.

"No _real _dork memorizes the addresses and owners of Love Hotels, no dork has the balls to do things that you do, or knows exactly how to dress himself up or down for every occasion; no dorks _I've_ ever met smell as good as you do," she added carelessly, and then realized how what she just said sounded like.

It was _his_ stupid fault for standing downwind to her and making her think about that cologne he wore: she'd been dwelling on it and the times she'd smelt it as she'd spoken, and then said somthing without actually realizing what she was implying. "I mean!" she spluttered and felt her cheeks burn as Natsume cracked a smug grin: damn her stupid attention-wandering mind.

"Ohhh?" he sneered proudly, and stepped closer as her face rouged.

"I mean..." she mumbled, and now it seemed _all _she could concentrate on was the fact that Natsume happened to smell really good today as well; better than any of the boys last night at least.

"You still dress like a total freak!" she shouted too loud not to be forced, and Natsume just snorted – she was trying to recover points already lost.

He took a few quick steps up to her, until his mouth was close to her ear, and then he said, "The clothes come off, you know," in an implicit tone. Mikan couldn't stop herself swallowing: she'd walked right into that.

She retaliated by pushing him away, a hand firmly in the middle of his chest, and she said something rushed like 'getawayfrommefreak!' But neither of them could deny that the ball had landed in Natsume's end of the court this time.

"You know," she stuttered awkwardly as the bell for lessons went and they officially ran into being late, "maybe if you acted more..." she was going to say 'like yourself, then you might have more friends', but then she remembered _who _he was and changed her mind.

"Actually, never mind," she sniggered, and Natsume scowled – this girl had started breaking rules everywhere now. First she started speculating _accurately _about what turned him on, then she claimed she didn't care what people thought about her, and then she slashed through his whole self-created and maintained image.

The strangest thing, though, was that he had still managed to flirt with her: Natsume had never hit on a girl 'freestyle' before in his life, he always planned everything out first. He felt oddly proud of his verbal triumph, and promised himself that it was just the first step in things to come. The next bell for lessons rang somwhere in the distance.

"You'll be late to class," he remarked coolly, and Mikan returned his gaze with equal iciness.

"So will you," she stated, and they stared each other out, waiting for one of them to crack first and run to their class – Mikan had been sure it would be Natsume, after all, he was still pretty swotty, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

"You'll get in trouble," she chanced a little thinly, and Natsume smirked back at her.

"It doesn't matter if I miss a lesson," he said smugly, "my grades are the best anyway." That was unfortunately true – Natsume had the best grades in the entire school, whereas Mikan was somewhere in the lower deluges.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is it that hard to go a whole _minute_ without acting like a jerk?" she sniped, and at the same time wondered why, if she hated this guy so much, did she refuse to just ignore him and instead actively initiated conversation, and ended up bantering with him too comfortably for her own peace of mind as well.

Suddenly, Natsume realized what he could do to get closer to her: it would be taking one step backwards in his books, but it was worth it to take two steps forwards.

"Why don't you find out?" he posed quickly, "…Go on a date with me." There was stunned silence as Mikan replayed what he said in her head, and then she burst out laughing.

"Go on a _date?!" _she screeched as tears of laughter pricked her eyes, "You want me to go on a date with you?!" Natsume was wounded, but he'd expected a reaction like this and insisted he should bide his time.

"Listen!" He yelled it loud enough to stop Mikan laughing and got her paying attention to him. "If you agree to _one _date with me," he speculated – one date would be all he needed anyway, "then I'll apologise to your friend." Mikan was caught: she wanted Sumire to get her apology, but Hyuga was asking her on a _date_ for heaven's sake!

"...Why?" she questioned eventually, "Why do you want to go on a date with me?" She didn't claim that she wouldn't go out with Hyuga just _once _– after all a date was hardly anything serious, and if she did it then Sumire would get some proper closure on what he'd done to her. She'd gone on dates with people she ended up hating within ten minutes of it, so dating someone she already despised would just be cutting out that first stage, and she could also use it to inflict some personal revenge on him, without making too fine a point of it.

"I..." Natsume hesitated, flustered – he could hardly say it was because it was part of his grand scheme to violently fuck her and then get on with the rest of his life. "I..."

"Ooh, do you have a _crush _on me?" she simpered mockingly, and Natsume scowled.

"As if," he spat, "I'm just proving that you... really do care about your reputation," he accused. "You said you didn't care what people thought, but refusing to be seen with _me _proves you only pretend not to care, and really-"

"One, I _don't _care," she boasted, "and _two_, you need some self-esteem," she remarked, "it's not healthy to talk about yourself like you're a disease." She shot him a lot. "Oh, wait, you _are_, aren't you?"

"Funny," he snapped insincerely. "Do we have a deal?" Mikan thought for a moment.

"You won't just apologise to Sumire," she said thoughtfully, "I'll_ do it_, but you don't just apologise to her, you apologise to _every _girl you've done that to." Now it was Natsume's turn to consider the conditions of the deal: he'd decided that he'd have Mikan at _any_ cost, so this obviously had to be inclusive to that.

"Fine," he grunted, and rubbed his nose where his glasses rested, "it'll take some time, but…"

"Brag-brag-brag," Mikan jeered while making chattering actions with one of her hands, and then while he glowered she whipped a pen out of her bag and in a flash grabbed hold of his arm.

She yanked up his sleeve, and then before he reacted started to doodle her mobile number down on his inner arm; after struggling at first, and then settling down when he realized what she was doing, Natsume chewed his lower lip and tried not to think about her touching the sensitive skin of his arm – the last thing he needed right now was an erection.

Mikan finished her number with a sardonic smiley face and stepped promptly away from him again.

"I'm… free tomorrow morning," she remarked as if she wasn't talking to anyone in particular (it was a Saturday), and Natsume nodded awkwardly: it was only now that he realized he'd only been on a few proper dates before, and they were all with Yuri a long time ago (she'd moved away last year). In his eagerness to further the cause he'd forgotten himself and ended up flying out on a limb he had no experience in: he was going to have to wing it.

"Hey! You two!" a voice snapped from the window of a nearby building, "stop flirting and get to class!" Laughter was heard in the classroom, and within seconds both Mikan and Natsume had bolted in embarrassment, also both thinking '_what the hell have I done?' _

However, they both reasoned that what was done was done, and they became sure over the course of the day that they'd easily be able to twist the small accident of ego around to serve their own causes.

* * *

_"Late again_, Mikan-chan," sighed Narumi-sensei as Mikan ambled into class a full ten minutes after the bell went, and Mikan flashed him a pouty smile.

"_Sorry_, Sensei," she said sweetly, and only two students exchanged a muted whisper - people had generally moved on from the 'Mikan and Narumi-sensei' fiasco of the past. Everyone had just accepted it and had grown bored of the gossip.

Mikan, in spite of the common belief that she would sleep with almost anyone, had in fact only made love to five different people in her life. Only two had ever made her come, and one of those was Narumi.

It had only happened a handful of times, but they had been spread out over a mildly criminal period of three years – she was only just sixteen the first time they'd ended up… well…

However, Narumi was still the one man Mikan trusted most in the whole world, and the fact that she'd been intimate with him was only a fraction of how she felt about him. She could say he was like a father to her, but that would probably make the fact that they'd slept together even more criminal – it _was_ part of the package though. She barely remembered her biological father, and he was the most stable male (even if he was sometimes hard-pressed to act like it) in her life.

He was the person she went to when she had no one else, when on the anniversary of her father's death when her mom was blind drunk and sobbing hysterically in a locked room on her own, and Mikan was scared and alone and just needed someone to watch over her until the storm passed – Narumi had been there – he'd held her – and he _hadn't_, she might add, laid a hand on her inappropriately.

No, she'd started _that_; she'd crawled in through his apartment one late night after she'd narrowly escaped being raped, and found him fast asleep in his bed - not surprising really - and _she'd _been the one who'd stripped to her underwear and put on one of his too-big-for-her-shirts; crawling teary-eyed under the covers next to him.

She had just wanted comfort and reassurance, and this was the only safe place she could reach this late at night, and she _really _needed a hug, but when in his confused state of waking he'd held her like a lover something had been started that they were powerless to stop. That night was the first time she'd ever had an orgasm, and it had been before they'd even had proper sex; she came twice more after that, and Narumi was from then on burned forever in her memory and soul.

The other person was Tsubasa, but he was at university now anyway. He wasn't as important to her, they'd just had a lot of practice.

"Mikan-chan," the fair-haired Narumi probed, "would you please take a seat." Mikan snapped out of her daydream with a giggle, and dashed over to a desk with an embarassed glance at Narumi, who was now returning her stare with the glazed-over sort of look in his eyes that meant he was more probably than not thinking about her in a less than teacher-ly way.

They didn't do _that _anymore now, at least, they'd sworn to each other after the last time that they wouldn't. Narumi was in a relationship with an older man now (he was bisexual), and Mikan dated people of her own age. They'd moved on, but it never quite closed down that _possibility_ that had been blasted open that night over three years ago.

She had the date with Natsume now anway. Not that she thought it'd be likely to stop her thinking about Narumi. Fat chance of _that_.

* * *

And out comes the deal with Mikan and Narumi :P Yes, I have a massive student/teacher fetish, so this is partly personal fanservice, but I think a lot of it is also quire important to Mikan's character, and quite revealing about what she's really like.

Leave a review! If you don't know what to say then tell me anything from this list.

Do you think Mikan and Natsume's date will go well or badly? Who reckons he'll seduce her sucessfully? What do you like/dislike about Mikan and Natsume's characters in this story? Or their pasts? What is your opinion on the Mikan/Narumi pairing?


	6. VI

Updated! I'm not getting all that many reviews for this, but I'm enjoying it as a writing process so much that I don't care as much.

I hope you enjoy reading it like I enjoyed writing it :D I did this over the course of _this _day, because I'm desperate to keep my writing up to speed with my thought processes.

* * *

Mikan sat on a bench outside a train station and tapped her chunky platform heels together – this was _still _a stupid idea. Why had she agreed to do this?

She remembered the conversation in explicit detail, but somehow she couldn't place the moment when she and Hyuga Natsume had agreed to go on a date; it was stupid, stupid, stupid.

However, that didn't mean when barely half an hour into her class she received a message on her phone saying '10:30, outside the station closest to school?' some small part of her didn't do a little flip; she immediately pretended she hadn't felt it, but on some level he was exactly the same as any other boy, and there were certain things she couldn't escape because of that.

'Ok' she had replied – just one word, and between then and now they hadn't said anything else to each other; probably due to a lack of will to do so, as well as the additional awkwardness. Now things were just getting weird, and neither of them welcomed the flittering anxiety that possessed them the next morning.

Mikan had spent entirely too long choosing what to wear, and Natsume spent half an hour extra in the shower, and double the time he normally took shaving. They both told themselves there was no reason for this, but the desire to surpass the other one was too strong, and Mikan, now waiting, couldn't wait to see how he reacted to her shorter-than-short tartan skirt.

He was_ late_, and Mikan looked at the watch on her phone and told herself if she had to wait more than ten minutes she was going to leave – she'd already made excuses not to see Sumrie and other friends; lying of course because she didn't want them to know what she was up to just yet.

She was just about to get up and go when she heard a voice behind her.

"Leaving so soon?" he said caustically, and picked himself up off the wall he'd been leaning against for going on fifteen minutes now.

"Huh?" Mikan said, confused. "When did _you _get here?" Natsume smirked.

"I've been here since you arrived," he said coolly, and chuckled at the face she pulled.

"Why didn't you say anything!?" she blustered, "I was sitting here like an idiot!" She realized almost immediately after she said this that that was probably Natsume's goal, and she scowled as she had to hand over the first point to him.

"_You _were the one who didn't notice me," he remarked triumphantly, removing a hand from the pocket of his oversized jeans and checking the time on his phone, "_fifteen_ minutes you didn't bother to turn around, _wow_–"

"Zip it right now," she threatened, but not overly seriously, "or I'm out of here." Natsume raised his eyebrows and shrugged, causing one of the shoulders of his baggy top to fall off his shoulder – it had some English words scrawled on it graffiti-style, and he wore a much tighter-fitting black sleeveless tank-top underneath; the shoulders of which were visible around the wide neck of the jumper. The sleeves were far too long for his arms and bunched up around his wrists, and as he moved his hand to scratch his chin Mikan thought for a moment that she saw a ring on one of his fingers.

She had been far too accurate when she said he knew how to dress himself – if she was honest then he could do it _dangerously _well. Her 'you dress like a freak' comment of the previous day couldn't seem more wrong now.

"Staring much?" he quipped uninterestedly and Mikan snapped her gaze away from him sheepishly.

"Whatever," she hissed, "I missed breakfast, so we'll have to stop at a convenience store 'cause I'm starving." Natsume shrugged carelessly – this was as good a way to start a date as any, he guessed; it wasn't like he had any ideas himself.

However, there was just one thing that piqued his curiosity when he silently followed her into a nearby store.

"Why are you only getting the cheapest things?" he questioned, and she shot him a murderous glance.

"Because I'm on a budget," she muttered fast enough to be a single word, and Natsume furrowed his brow in thought.

"If you want breakfast," he continued as if he hadn't heard, "then why don't you buy it from a proper plac–?"

"Because I can't afford it!" Mikan whirled around and snapped at him angrily, "didn't you listen the first time?!" He was quiet – he hadn't though about that.

He stuck his hand back in a pocket and pulled out his wallet, thick with unspent allowance, and said, "I can buy it," in an _almost_ un-arrogant way.

"I…" Mikan stalled, "look," she hushed, "I don't need your charity."

"I asked you out," he replied openly, "I'll pay." Of _course _he would pay, he thought, he wasn't expecting to get a whore's services for free. When he thought about it closely he realized that she probably had plenty of money, and this whole scheme was just a plan to get him to pay for her – well, he could do that.

"I don't… well… _fine_," Mikan huffed, and dumping the things she'd picked up walked out of the store, making a beeline for the nearest hot food vendor. "At least you have _some _chivalry in your body…"

Normally she expected a boy taking her out to buy at least a few things for her, food and tickets if they went to a film or concert, but she hadn't thought of it that way with _him _because… well… it was _him_.

However, he appeared to have plenty to spend, judging by how fat his wallet was, so she decided to make use of it and bought the biggest portion of food she could – if she didn't finish it now then she could take it home and eat the rest later.

"You sure eat a lot," Natsume remarked sarcastically as he handed over the money, and Mikan made a rude gesture at him with her hands – after all – she was doing this because it would make Natsume apologise to Sumire and the other girl's he'd hurt. She was taking one for the team.

Natsume, likewise, thought himself to be 'taking one for the team' in agreeing to an actual date, in which he'd have to mask his true intentions to begin with and waste a lot of time and energy bringing her around.

Not to worry though, he was sure he'd be able to bed her by the end of the day.

After Mikan had gorged herself on piping hot street-vendor food (she hadn't eaten much last night) she decided that she might as well just run with her traditional 'I don't really like you but I'm doing this as a favour' date plan, which consisted of simply getting on with her own thing and dragging them along – it was Saturday, so there was a market on, and with Natsume trailing behind she set off with an optimistic air.

Natsume didn't want to admit it, but he was a little out of his depth; usually he had everything planned out, the environment was controlled, he could predict the girl's every action, and the cards were in his hand. Here, with Mikan bustling around all over the place in a disgustingly good-looking pink tartan skirt, he found himself prone to withdrawing, as he usually did in highly social situations.

"Oh, this smells good!" she chirped with the neck of an antique bottle held under her nose, and Mikan reached across for Natsume without really thinking about it and pulled him towards the stall by a handful of his sweater. "Smell," she commanded, and in spite of looking rather stunned he tentatively sniffed the perfume.

He pulled a disgusted face, and said, "Smells like an old hooker." Mikan frowned and let go of his top.

"I bet you'd know _all _about that," she muttered, "_I _thought it smelt nice."

"You would," he replied smoothly, before thinking about how offensive what he was saying was, even if he _did _believe it; earning himself a rather unpleasant pinch on the arm.

"You should watch your mouth," she scolded while picking up and smelling other perfumes, "well, what about this one?" She held out another to him, which he also found disgusting, and in no time he too was picking up and handling the little glass bottles of the perfume stall.

It was some time before he actually found something that made him say, "This one's okay." Mikan took it out of his hand and pretended not to notice their hands touching, and the observation that he _did _in fact have a twisted silver ring on one of his fingers.

"That's…" She breathed in the scent, "that's amazing," she said, a little surprised – even though she should by all rights been able to guess that, with his own fine selections, Natsume had a nose for a good scent. Speaking of which, this day, as any, he was wearing another nice aftershave, which Mikan noticed when he stepped around her once.

"It's really nice," she added, and turned the bottle over in her hands, a look in her eyes that suggested she'd love to buy it. Natsume smirked and assumed it was another point gained for him, and that she would also reveal her earlier ploy to get him to treat her by now producing her own money, when she put the thing down with a sad look and moved on.

Now he couldn't do anything but accept the fact that she really _didn't _have money to spend, or, she was a far more cunning player than he'd thought.

However, over the course of the day he started to lose any faith he had in the latter, when time and time again she came upon things she obviously would like to buy, and simply let them go with a resigned air – not only that, but she seemed to be used to it.

It occurred to him that _he _could buy the things for her as gifts, but he told himself that was giving up too much ground and becoming dangerously close to initiating a proper relationship with her. He did _not _want that, he just wanted her body.

How he wanted it; she must have known it, because when she dragged him into a few clothes boutiques, shifting through the things happily and piling her arms high with things to try on – even though, as he was now aware, she wouldn't be able to buy anything.

"Er… _hey_!" she called from the other side of a dressing-room curtain, and Natsume snapped out of the day-dreaming trance he'd slipped into waiting for her to try on the next haul of clothes; all, not to his surprise, bright, revealing, slutty sorts of things.

"Huh?" he grunted back, and the curtain was pulled back a little and she peeked out from behind it.

"Could you give me a hand?" Somehow she managed to _sound _half-dressed, and Natsume wore an intensely interested expression as he approached the cubicle.

"I can give you _more _than that," he hinted, and to his surprise she stuck her tongue out at him. Once again she failed to react how he expected her to; although, he wasn't really that shocked, as loathed as he was to admit it, he was adjusting to her.

He didn't _want _to be, but Natsume was aware that within a very small amount of time Mikan had thrown herself through the majority of his safeguards and rendered herself in a very odd place to him. Usually he barely remembered a girl's name when he was pursuing her, and it was simply a temporary fever of the flesh that he soon got rid of by sleeping with them – that and the things it did for his ego. But _she_… _she…_

"Hey! Don't make me stand here all day!" she snapped, and he realized she'd turned around and was baring a large portion of her back to him; she had wanted him to do up a zip.

"Oh," he said, "yes, right." He got closer and started to do the fastening up, trying to ignore the parts of his mind that were vividly imagining what it would be like to push her forwards right now and follow her in, and then going on to fuck her right here in the shop.

"Your hands are really hot," she remarked as if she could _tell_ he was thinking about screwing her or something, and then when the zip stopped around the wider part of her back she breathed out and said, "just yank it."

Natsume tried not to think about the dress gripping her body, her _breasts_, as he pulled the thing the rest of the way up, but dammit, she wasn't making it any easier.

"Thanks! How does it look?" she giggled as she turned around and stepped out into the light. It was a very tight-fitting pinstriped dress with a ruffled bottom and _very _deep plunge chest.

The rational part of his mind lost at this point.

He reached forwards and put one hand behind her neck, the other on her hip, and pulled her; he turned his head to the side and covered her mouth with his own, and pressed his lips hard against hers – _want want want want._

Mikan struggled and eventually pushed him away, much to the disapproving looks of the store attendants – who had 'mysteriously' appeared at the unfolding of this exchange.

"Get off!" she yelped, "What are you doing?!" She stared at him; Natsume looked completely wild and off-guard. She guessed that he'd acted completely out of impulse just then, and for someone like him, that was probably frightening. Like Sumire had told her, he always seemed to plan things out.

"That's…" he said quietly, as his outside remained calm in contrast to an inferno of feelings inside. "That's… how you look," he finished with a slight tremor, as if he'd startled even himself.

"What?" she retorted scathingly.

"You asked how you looked," he explained with a returning edge of 'can't you understand, idiot?' "That's how."

Mikan was quiet, and then as she felt her face getting warm and quickly slipped back into the changing room.

That was quite possibly the nicest answer she'd _ever_ had to that question.

But it had to be from _him_, didn't it?

"You need any help taking that off?" Suddenly it seemed Natsume was back to normal, and the thinly veiled proposal reached Mikan's reddening face through the curtain.

"You know what I think I'm fine!" she yelped. For the first time since that unfortunate day in the library, she'd actually been able to think realistically about getting with him.

That was _not good_.

She asked one of the assistants to help her take off the dress, and graciously declined to buy it, even with a discount the girl offered her 'because her boyfriend seemed to like it so much'. Mikan firstly insisted he was _not _her boyfriend, and then, loudly enough for the rest of the shop to hear (as she was somewhat lacking in tact), told the assistant that she really couldn't afford an expensive dress like this.

When Mikan finally emerged from the changing room, back to her brighter-than-bright shorter-than-short skirt, leggings and platform heels; her upper body swaddled in several layers of differently coloured tops and necklaces. Natsume had a bag in his hand.

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously, wondering if perhaps he'd done what she thought he might've.

"A shirt," he replied stonily, reaching into the bag and pulling out a striped sleeve that suggested he _was _in fact a heartless bastard after all. "I got bored waiting."

"You said you didn't care what we did," she reminded him as they left the shop, and in the middle of a crowd she grabbed his wrist unconsciously to keep them from being separated as they crossed the street; he felt something, something that wasn't just lust.

Natsume had assumed that this one date would be all he needed, only yesterday when he looked at Mikan Sakura he'd wanted to have sex with her and nothing else, touching her was just a part of that, and he was one hundred percent confidant in his ability to seduce her and walk away from it with a clear head.

But now, _now_…

He felt like an ordinary teenage boy, and he didn't feel like that very often.

* * *

The date! Leave a review and I'll get Natsume to take his shirt off next chapter or something :P (haha, I joke... or _do _I?!)

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	7. VII

I had a huge brainwave developing my representation of Alices, and this is the second half of the date for y'all.

Enjoy.

* * *

"What? You're hungry _again?_" Nastsume said incredulously, and Mikan just glared at him.

"I'm not fat," she replied curtly.

"I didn't say that," he shot back, "I just said you eat a lot."

"I don't eat much at home," she remarked coldly, "and you _are _treating me, after all." She glanced into the window of every expensive cafe-etteish place they passed, staring enviously at the people eating carefully prepared wholesome food inside.

"I suppose I am," Natsume sighed, and they turned down a side street; Mikan stopped at a busy stall flogging everything from knock-off watches to alarm clocks to flavoured hair-gel, and he came to rest against a wall _again _as she pointlessly and aimlessly sifted through the things and halted their journey.

"Why do you _bother_?" he yelled at her over the rabble, "you never buy anything!" She didn't _appear _to hear him, and he looked back to the front - they were opposite an arcade filled with twelve year-old school children and a few Yanki off their heads on _whatever_, but to him the flashing lights just looked like idiot beacons. Why play a fake game on a screen when you could play one in the real world?

Suddenly Mikan was by his side, grabbing his arm and pulling him along quickly. "Let's go!" she hissed, and he wondered who had lit a fire under her ass. She was fiddling with her handbag, and wouldn't let go of his arm until they were out of the side-street.

"So where we going for lunch?" she asked a little edgily, and Natsume detected _something. _He didn't know exactly what it was yet, but it was definitely there.

"What's your problem?" he asked, "You look like you saw your pimp or som-" She slapped him, but it was only to say 'keep it shut, motor-mouth', and didn't really hurt so much as it stunned. "You're pretty violent," he commented arrogantly.

"You're pretty wankerish," she retorted moodily, and he felt the hand-off, nervous mood deteriorating into something they were more used to.

"'Wankerish', yes, that's a word," he said sarcastically, and she shoved him a little.

"I'll break your glass... hey!" she snapped, "Where are your glasses?!" Mikan couldn't belie that she'd only _just _realized he wasn't wearing his usual spectacles - perhaps it had been the way he did his hair or something, but she simply hadn't noticed until now.

"Uh, contacts," he answered with a shrug, and Mikan pretended to let it slide. They started walking down the street again and all of a sudden she veered sharply to the side and pushed him along as well, sandwiching them between a vending machine and the wall of a building.

"Hey," she murmured breathily, and turned her face towards his, and after the initial shock passed Natsume looked as if Christmas had come early.

He didn't know _what _he'd done, but suddenly Mikan seemed to be on the hook. He never should've doubted himself. He leaned in for the... _what?_

Mikan backed away from what Natsume had _assumed _to be a long-awaited kiss, and with a grin and a yelp said, "You aren't wearing contacts!"

"What?" he snapped.

"You aren't wearing any, I was looking at your eyes just now, and I _don't _see them." Even though she had been hitting him all day, this one stung the most.

"What the _hell _was that just now?!" he exploded, pushing her back and attracting a few suspicious glances from passers-by, "You were looking at my _eyes?!"_

"Calm down!" she retorted, "What's the deal? You're acting like a weirdo."

"I'm not the one pushing people against walls and staring at their eyes!" Natsume fumed - how _dare _she humiliate him like that.

"_I'm _not the one lying about wearing glasses," she spat, and for all his anger Natsume was cowed into silence: his cover was blown.

"Well?" Mikan questioned, and with a huff Natsume gave her the cold shoulder and walked on.

"'Well' nothing, I don't have to explain myself to you," he muttered, and although half of him suspected she'd walk away and the whole deal would be blown, she followed him.

"I didn't think anyone _actually _wore plain-glass glasses in real life," she remarked scathingly, "what are you, out of a manga or something?"

"What_ever_." Natsume scowled, and tried to out-pace her. Suddenly he didn't _care _about sleeping with her any more - she was too dangerous - too able to look at him the way he looked at other people; she could _tell _things he thought he had hidden. He wanted out.

"Don't you walk away from me!" she screamed and then he felt her grab the back of his jumper, pulling hard and forcing him to stop; she wrapped a hand around his collar and jerked him around to face her. "_Don't_ you walk away from me," she threatened quietly, and suddenly the desire was back again.

He dropped his bag, put one hand on either side of her face, and kissed her, feeling her jaw stiffen and lock shut; her hands pushing frantically at his chest and arms to get him to back off: he would _never _back off.

Until she nearly kneed him in the groin. _Then _he cooled off.

"Would you stop doing that!" she snapped, "God, you're on and off like a bloody light switch."

"Don't push me if you don't want to be pushed back," he told her as he picked up his bag again and let her touch up her lip gloss - fruit-flavoured - he realized as he licked his lower lip. They passed a fast food joint as they returned to the flow of pedestrians.

"I'm hungry," she whined, and gave him a look that strongly suggested she wanted to stop for lunch.

Natsume didn't want to be manipulated, but _damn_...

"Fine," he groaned, and started toward the store, "will you stop complaining if I buy more food?"

"Will you stop trying to molest me?" she fired back.

"It wouldn't be molesting if you stopped fighting back," he grumbled while they joined the queue for food, "I thought you were..."

"A slut?" she said sharply, and he looked away guiltily. "Real fucking charming," she muttered, and an older person near them gave her a dirty look; she returned it and then ignored them.

"To be fair," Natsume started in a 'well _actually' _kind of way, and then found a fist very firmly in his stomach.

"You are a million times worse than me," she hissed, "so keep your filthy mouth shut. I'm only doing _this _as a favour to Sumire." He scowled and didn't say anything until they'd got their food and had sat down at a table to eat it.

Natsume felt like what had been good, beyond good, was quickly slipping into something base and unpleasant - he didn't _want _that. He had liked it when they weren't at each other's throats, but for the life of him he couldn't work out when things had changed.

He went to the bathroom to splash water on his face and try to think - okay, she knew he didn't need glasses and wore plain-glass ones; okay, when she'd touched him one of those times he'd felt something more than lust; okay, he was angry and frustrated by the fact that they were mad at each other now, and _okay_... he was getting caught up in this. _One _date, and he was getting caught up.

When he returned, he'd sworn to himself that he was going to try not to make her mad or start an argument; he _was _capable of being civil: that was the line that had started this whole affair - 'can you go _one _minute without being a jerk?' - he _could _do it.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked worriedly, because he realized that Mikan was, for no reason in particular, smiling like there was something really hilarious that she didn't want him to know about. He took a sip of his drink and unwrapped his burger.

"Enjoy your lunch," she remarked coyly, and he stopped inches from biting into the burger.

"...What did you do to it?" he hissed.

"_Nothing_!" she protested, "Nothing at _all_, Natsume--" They both realized at the same time she was calling him by his name; even in the shop she'd just say 'hey!', she hadn't called him by his name once.

"Right," he replied suspiciously, and took another big sip of his drink; actually, it _did _taste a bit odd. "You..." He held out the drink, "does this taste funny to you?" They both knew he was underhandedly proposing an indirect kiss, but seeing as he'd been stealing them all day it wasn't of the most concern.

"I... I don't like coke," she murmured and politely declined, and Natsume narrowed his eyes at her.

"Did you spit in it?" he demanded.

"No!" she rushed, "That's disgusting! Ew, no way, I definitely didn't." She seemed repulsed enough by the idea that he didn't pursue it any further, and assumed it must be something with the tap. He started to eat his burger with a calmer mind, thinking that he was imagining it.

That was until the straw blocked.

"What the hell is up with this..." he complained as he ripped off the top of the cup, and then stared in horror at the fat, soggy handful of fries at the bottom of it.

Mikan started to collapse with laughter, and Natsume realized that while she may not have _spat _in his cup...

"What the fuck!" he cried in outrage; hints of amusement present in the sheer ridiculousness of what she'd done. People around them turned around, but he didn't really care. He fished a chip out of the cup and then threw it at her.

Mikan squealed and threw a handful of fries back at him in retaliation; it wasn't long before they were both yelling and screaming and pelting each other with fries and ketchup sachets.

"Could you _please _quiet down, or vacate the store," a floor manager said sternly, having being directed towards the 'rowdy teens' by other complaining customers - to be fair they were both swearing loudly at each other and causing quite a disturbance.

"Piss off! We're having fun!" both Mikan and Natsume replied almost identically, and then after the initial confusion of mimicking each other (and that they _actually were _having fun), they realized that they weren't 'welcome' any more, and should probably make themselves scarce.

It was walking out that they caught half of a comment running along the lines of 'they're probably from _that _school...' and both of them tensed up: they'd been pointed out as Alice Academy kids.

"Fucking locals," Natsume spat, enraged, as soon as they were out the door, "what the fuck do they know anyway?!"

"Nothing," Mikan agreed, just as pissed off, "they're all close-minded wankers... fuckers," she cursed and noticed Natsume eyeing up a nearby bin like he wanted to kick the shit out of it... or something else. "Don't," she warned, "we cause trouble and they'll contact the school." Suddenly, when identified as part of their school, they had banded together, as Alice Academy kids often did.

"Then lets go somewhere we won't get fucking caught," he muttered, flicking his fingers like he was imagining he was holding a lighter, "teach them a fucking less-"

"Seriously don't, Natsume," she warned coldly, and grabbed his arm, "just fucking chill, okay?"

"Likewise," he spat, and she could feel how tense his arms were through his top. He took a step towards her intimidatingly. "You _know _you want to."

"But I'm not gonna!" she hissed, "Because..." she cut herself off guiltily, "uh, because..." Natsume read her hesitation.

"What?" he asked, "What's... what's your Alice, anyway?" It was a personal question, she could very likely hit him for asking it, but to his surprise she didn't.

"It's... uh," she murmured, and then dug a hand into her handbag, "it's...." She pulled out a small phone charm; nothing special, but it _was _special, because he knew she didn't have it when she came out... and that it _had _been one of many on the bustling stall opposite the arcade.

"When did you get that?" he questioned intensely, note the word 'get', he _knew _she didn't have money to buy things.

She let go of his arm and threw the thing in the direction of the nearest bin. "My Alice is... steal, okay?" she said defensively, "You must have worked it out, right?"

"I didn't know," he replied coolly - cool was the best way to play it.

"Fine, okay, whatever," she muttered darkly, and started to walk off. He stopped her, he reached out and held her arm like she had so many times already.

"Hey," he said quietly, his hand seeming awfully important gripping her upper arm like that, "it's no big deal, yeah?" She shrugged. "Look, _I'm_ an Alice of fire, you think I don't know what it's like?" What it's like to be one of the lowest classes, to be _dangerous to the public and property_; Mikan knew this already, _everyone _knew. The kid who once burnt down every bin and and half the trees in school hardly got by without being noticed. That's one of the reasons he didn't mind the title 'library kid' so much.

She chewed on her lower lip: she _had _been acting like Natsume wouldn't be able to see things from her side of the tracks, and now she remembered that he _was _her side of the tracks.

"Yeah, of course," she replied, a little warmer. "I didn't think about it like that."

"Tch, it's nothing, okay?" he said awkwardly, and then they slowly started to walk again.

Mikan looked at a clock in a nearby shop, and realized the time.

"Shit! I've got to go!" she rushed almost apologetically, and then realized that this had been a mandatory date for reasons she had entirely forgotten about since they left the fast-food store.

"What?" he said, disappointed.

"I've got my tutor," she explained, "unlike _some _people my grades suck and I have to study, so I've got to split."

Neither wanted to admit that they had just started to almost _bond_, especially over the Alice-thing, and Mikan reckoned it was probably good she had to go now, because she might have started softening up to Natsume, and maybe not technically hating him or something.

"Fine," he grunted, "I haven't got anything else to do, so I'll go to the station with you." They walked mostly in silence, Natsume wondered if and when he could hint at maybe seeing her again.

He liked her, not in a pathetic _emotional _way, but, in a sort of 'I wouldn't mind seeing you a second time' kind of way. She broke the routine, and in three years of exactly the same, that was more refreshing than he'd thought it would be.

However, he never managed to bring it up, and they awkwardly waved goodbye at the divisions between platforms - she, he noticed, skipped the barriers by walking unusually close to the person in front of her, and slipped through behind them without having to have a fare; they gave her some funny looks, but he had finally realized exactly how much more there was to Mikan Sakura.

* * *

What's the deal with the Alices? Why don't you wait and see? This story is taking, as stories I write for these two often seem to, some pretty twisty turns. Buckle yo' seatbelts :P

And leave a review :D


	8. VIII

Done at last! This chapter didn't take a long time because I had trouble writing it, I just didn't have the _time _:(

I'm trying to keep up with my mind's idea of this story, so enjoy the chapter and I hope to produce more soon.

* * *

Mikan didn't get the train back to her house – she wasn't going there – she went to the uptown residence of Hotaru Imai, her best friend.

Sort of.

"Hotaru!" Mikan chimed into the intercom at the gates to her house, "It's me!"

"You are forty-seven minutes and thirty three seconds late, Mikan," was the cold answer, and after a scary 'leave you out there' few moments the gates buzzed open.

Hotaru was in her lab, as usual, and after Mikan was let into the house by a cleaner she made her way up there.

"Horatu!" she pleaded as she knocked on the _locked_ door, "I'm sorry I was late! Let me in please!" She knew her friend too well.

"I waited for five minutes, and then I began my next experiment," Hotaru explained coldly. "Now _you _will have to wait until _I_ have finished." Mikan sighed and then wandered off to watch TV on Hotaru's modified wide-screen, and an hour or so later her childhood friend emerged from the lab, blinking in the natural light.

"Why were you late?" Hotaru demanded, hello-s and nice-to-see-you-s completely ignored, and Mikan shrugged.

"Time got away from me, I guess," she murmured vaguely, not wishing to divulge that she was on a date with a _very _confusing boy she couldn't _quite_ remember if she hated or not anymore. Because she had been _disappointed _that she had to go, and that by default meant she wanted to spend more time with him.

Which wasn't good.

If she was honest with herself, she'd thought about saying something about meeting up again on the way back to the station – she just had this feeling of things not quite being _done _between them yet – but neither of them ended up saying anything so nothing happened. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt almost like it was a missed opportunity – if anything, he was a different class to normal boys, and maybe she could've worked with that.

"Who is he?" Hotaru suddenly said, cold and calculating as always.

"What?"

"I do not need to repeat myself," she re-stated; her posture stiff and her eyes glassy.

"Well... why do you assume it's a 'he'?" Mikan inquired edgily – Hotaru noticed _everything_. Everything. It was part of her Alice.

Hotaru's Alice was really strong, and her combined brilliance and difficult situation had permitted her a place at one of the top schools in the city. But she was in possession of a very sharp double-edged sword.

She could spot love in others, but couldn't feel it herself; predict actions and reactions, but not stray from her own time-reinforced routine, and she was cold, _horribly _cold. She didn't know what other way to be.

"One: I detect a contaminant in the air that has the properties of being a scented substance, more specifically marketed towards males, Two: eight out of ten of the times that you wear those clothes, it is related to a social exchange, also more specifically with a male, and Three: you have been touching your mouth seventy percent more than usual, suggesting to me that it too has had interaction with a male." Hotaru looked at Mikan, who immediately whipped her fingers away from her lips and went a little red.

"If you say it like _that_..." she mumbled.

"I repeat: who is he?" Hotaru demanded, refusing to tutor Mikan at all until she answered her questions.

"Look... it's just... he's only..." Mikan stuttered, "he's just a boy at school!" she rushed guiltily, "Are you happy?"

"I don't understand," replied Hotaru emptily, and Mikan frowned a little – Hotaru found it difficult to understand the concept of emotions, especially when people used things like sarcasm; that made it even harder for her.

"Sorry, I was just saying... he's just someone," she said, "you don't know him."

"I don't know him because you haven't told me who he is, if you did, then perhaps I might," she replied, and Mikan realized it was a hopeless battle: Hotaru wouldn't stop until she had the information she wanted.

"Hyuga Natsume, okay!" she snapped, and started to violently look through a text book.

Hotaru was quiet for a while, and then said, "I do know _of_ him."

"Everyone does," Mikan hissed as she tried to get Hotaru to concentrate on helping her study. "There aren't many Alice-students who don't know about _him_." Much like Mikan's association with Narumi, Natsume also had a controversial past, which people never talked about, but everyone still _knew _of.

"Why were you out with him?" Hotaru asked anew, "Was it a 'date'?" Her expression was still vacant, and Mikan knew that Hotaru's understanding only went as far as using the words – in reality she couldn't understand the concepts of 'dating' or even affection between boys and girls.

All effects of her Alice.

"Well, yes..." Mikan said quietly, "but I don't like him."

"Then... why did you go on a date?" Hotaru was genuinely confused – something that never happened in her world of books and knowledge and invention. There she understood everything, but in the world of emotions she was always bottom of the class.

"It was a bargain," Mikan explained, "he asked, and..."

"So does _he '_like' you?"

"Well..." Mikan looked at the facts: Natsume had asked her out on a date, he had agreed to buy her food and he'd tried to (and sort of succeeded) in kissing her a number of times. "I think he might."

"I understand," Hotaru said pensively, and finally started to help Mikan with her work.

Their parents knew each other from their times at the Alice Academy a long time ago, and Mikan and Hotaru had always been friends, or, at least the best kind of 'friends' Hotaru was capable of making.

"How do I do this one?" Mikan asked after a while, pencil resting between her finger and thumb.

"Mikan, why did you go on a date with Hyuga Natsume, who 'likes' you, but you do not 'like' him?" A little later Hotaru finally posed the culmination of all her earlier questions.

"I..." she said dumbly, "I..." She _wanted _to say because of Sumire, but that would require explaining a lot more to Hotaru, and Mikan didn't think she could do that properly. "I... _don't know_," she muttered, and Hotaru seemed to take it in.

"Oh, I see." She didn't ask any more questions about Hyuga Natsume that day.

Mikan arrived home after dark, tired and her head full of equations – if it weren't for Hotaru then her grades would be so much worse, but she was still a pretty poor student.

As she walked though the main room she eyed up a half-empty packet of cigarettes on the table – she wasn't a smoker – well, at least not _really_. Sometimes when she was really bored at home she'd pretend to enjoy smoking the odd cigarette if she was 'stressed', but it was actually just a device to pass time and stop her from thinking about things that bothered her. There were worse things she could do (like drugs), but she usually felt foul-smelling and tobacco-breathed enough afterwards not to do it again for a while.

But tonight she was irritated, firstly by the fact that she was still hopeless at maths, secondly by the fact that she hadn't stopped thinking about the date and Natsume on/off all day, and thirdly by the fact that she'd let her Alice get the better of her with that stupid piece of trash phone-charm.

She went to her wardrobe to change, and brushed her fingers over a few precious things – some from her mum, some hers – but all of them _stolen._

_Kleptomania, _was her official tag, but it all fell under the broad umbrella of Alices; disorders of dysfunctions of one kind of another. Her mum had it, and passed it on to Mikan: they stole things – the Steal Alice – on impulse, or as part of some sort of weird internal mechanism not present in other people. They couldn't help it, and had a kind of natural skill in it as well. Some of the nicest designer clothes they owned were smuggled out of a store under a jumper or in a foil-lined bag, they'd _never _had the kind of money to buy them.

People with Alices all had some kind of social dysfunction – take Natsume, for example. He had the Alice of Fire – _pyromania_ as the clinical name ran, because when something in his head flipped he simply couldn't resist making something _burn_, just like Mikan couldn't resist shoplifting or pickpocketing.

Her and Natsume were the worst kind – _dangerous_ Alices, they were deemed 'harmful to society and/or property'. They were types who didn't fit in anywhere else, and the reason why their school existed; why it had such a bad reputation.

Alices like Hotaru and Ruka's weren't harmful – Hotaru had difficulty socialising and understanding emotions, not harmful; Nogi-kun found himself much more comfortable and able to relate to animals rather than people, also benign.

Narumi-sensei's was an Alice of people, so he was excellent at persuasion; but he also had an undercurrent in which he constantly tied to make people adore him, and when they _did _he was a fantastic and picture-perfect lover. However, this too had a dark side.

Because they were still all _abnormal_, there wasn't something quite right about them, and there was always a flipside. Hotaru's brilliance with numbers and inventions came at the price of her emotions, Narumi's social skills devoured his ability to ever be faithful, and Natsume...

Well, Natsume was just a problem all of his own.

Students like Mikan and Natsume had to go to extra classes for counselling – whereas other students got to pursue their Alices, they had to be trained out of them; taught how to resist and minimize their influence, and although they had a pretty good grip on them now, there were times when it could all fly off the handle.

Like that day when Natsume burnt the school, or that time when Mikan got arrested.

"Fuck it," Mikan sighed to herself as she sunk into an empty chair in her empty house – a can of beer in her hand and an eye still on the pack of Lucky Strike promising that _this time _it would be good.

"Oh, what's the point," she groaned, and then putting the half-drunk beer back in the fridge, dragged a blanket into the main room and fell asleep watching TV. At least then she could sleep to the sound of hearing other people's voices.

* * *

Natsume stared down the bag. It didn't stare back, but it did seem to taunt him.

He snatched it up off the floor where he'd thrown it and pulled out the plain shirt he'd bought; it wasn't the real thing he'd wanted, it was just camoflage.

At the bottom of the bag sat _that dress_, folded and wrapped in tissue paper, purchased at full price while Mikan was still changing.

_Why _did he buy it?

Natsume gritted his teeth and glared at the thing – ignoring the fact that he _did _buy the damn dress on some kind of stupid self-propelling impulse – there was still the question of why he didn't actually _give _it to her, and why he bought something else so he'd be able to lie about it.

What was the point in having it now? It wasn't like _he _was going to wear it. But, then again, she had worn it – it had been against her skin, and Natsume shuddered and resisted the urge to bury his face in the pinstriped fabric and breathe in deeply.

He didn't simply lust after her now, it was a _need_, and everything he did somehow came back to _her._ He was even more confused by the fact that it wasn't just her body he wanted anymore: she was invading his thoughts. He found himself stopping and thinking 'I wonder what _she'd _make of this' as he travelled home with only his thoughts for company, or looking at shop windows and imagining whether she'd like the clothes in there, or if she'd try them on or what she'd look like in them.

He knew what she looked like in _this_, though, and it was locked in his room with the accursed pinstripe dress, thinking about it (and her) _way _too much, that he was left with a throbbing erection that reminded him he _was _still hugely attracted to her, and now he didn't have anyone to relieve him.

Except himself, of course, but he hadn't done _that _for quite some time, he didn't need to. Well, he _hadn't_ needed to, but now it was toss off or try to sleep with it, and he knew which one would be easier in the short-term.

He came in the end, one hand on the _obvious_, and the other fisted in the dress, his eyes screwed shut to shut out the shame he felt doing this – how much more pathetic could he get?

Mikan was going to have to _pay _for making him like this.

He had intended on contacing her that night to arrange a second date, but after cleaning up he felt too weird contacting her, he'd just...

It would be awkward; he decided against it.

* * *

On Sunday Mikan had to work, and Natsume's parents had the day off so they went to visit relatives, so it wasn't until Monday that they ran into each other again.

Mikan had a fresh set of books to take back to the Library – Hotaru had finished reading them (she only needed to read things once), and Mikan felt a heady mix of anxiety and disgust with herself. for feeling the former, as she walked into the Library after school.

He was there. He was _always _there.

"I'm returning these," she said coolly as she thumped the heavy text-books down on the desk, and Natsume – head buried in a book of his own – jumped.

"Then leave them on the counter and... _oh._" He stopped in the middle of his usual anti-social brush-off when he looked up and realized who was talking to him, "_You_."

"Me," she retorted haughtily, and noticed that Natsume had reverted to his usual costume of mis-matched unattractiveness, and he had his 'glasses' back on as well.

"Staring muc–?" he started to recite as her gaze lingered on him, but she cut him off by reaching out and pulling his glasses off – not rough this time. People behind her in the queue began to give each other strange looks, as if to convey the question 'what's going on _there?' _to each other.

"Why do you wear them?" she questioned as she put them on her own face and looked through the plain-glass lenses to confirm her theory; her chin propped on her hand and her elbow on the desk, she had once again given Natsume a shocking view down her shirt and of her bra.

"Polka-dots today, I see," he replied dryly, and she was blank for a minute before she realized what he meant.

"Hey! Answer the question!" she spat as her cheeks flushed, "Or... do you like what you see too much?"

"Oh, I _yearn_ for you," he retorted – sounding ill-tempered and sarcastic, but really it was more of a truth than a lie.

"Poor lovesick _dork_," Mikan simpered; the books now totally forgotten and a new battle engaged in. "Why do you dress like that anyway?"

"Why do _you _dress like that?" he threw her own question back at her – Mikan's skirt was no less scandalous in length today than it was any other day, and Natsume was both disgusted and turned on.

"Why are you answering my question with another question?"

"Why are _you _answering _my_ question with another–"

"Is there some sort of 'jerk' switch you turn on when you're in here?" she snapped, and Natsume raises his eyebrows slightly – his glasses, meanwhile, were still on Mikan's face.

"Is there some kind of 'slut' switch you don't turn off when–" He was cut off as she slapped him, and when he looked back at her there was a sort of game-set-match look in her eyes.

"The way you talk," she said just a _little _less confidant than she'd been only seconds ago, but it was only noticeable to Natsume, and she'd won the last point so she was still on the up, "you act like you _don't _want to meet at eight tomorrow evening in the same place."

"I never said that," he replied quickly, realizing the opportunity he was being granted, "that's_..ok_.._._" he trailed off, and then realized they were being stared at by the majority of people in the library, and then looked down to start scanning in the books as if nothing had happened.

"Bye then!" Mikan chirped sarcastically, and sauntered towards the door with a put-on swing to her hips; she _was _trying to get to him.

Natsume remembered something, and leapt up from the desk in the middle of serving someone and vaulted it. He sprinted after Mikan and caught her by the wrist, roughly pulling her back in his direction and swinging her against the doorframe.

"Hey!" she shouted, "What the fuck?!" Natsume leant in threateningly, pressing thin the air between them, and then casually raised his other hand and pulled his glasses off her nose.

"I'll have those back," he said softly, chewing-gum mint on his breath and the same aftershave he wore at the weekend, but with another layer of shower-gel underneath.

Although Natsume frequently _looked _like someone who didn't have a hygiene routine, Mikan knew that, like so many other things about him, appearances could be deceiving.

* * *

Polka-dots makes a comeback! And I explain the deal with the Alices, if you still don't get it leave a review and I'll reply trying to fill the gaps, but I hope it's not too confusing.

In fact, leave a review anyway. It would make me happy :P


	9. IX

Done! Finally a _gooood _chapter :P I'm trying to push this along quite quickly, so hope you enjoy. It's kinda unusual AU I think, and the characters are changed versions of themselves. I feel bad for totally disregarding canon like this.  
_

* * *

Tuesday_: same place, different clothes.

This time Mikan made sure to look around a lot, just in case Natsume felt like hiding somewhere and being obnoxious, but as far as she could tell he wasn't here.

Which wasn't surprising, considering she was fifteen minutes early.

She fiddled with her jewellery and tried to check her breath – she'd brushed her teeth three times before coming out, so she was pretty sure it didn't smell; what was the most worrying about that though, was that she was _so _concerned about her breath being unpleasant.

Just what was she planning to do with it?

No, no, she told herself; she _wasn't _going to be doing anything like that. She didn't like him, she was just... well, she was just...

Going on a date with him. Again.

He'd apologized to Sumire – she was even _there_, and he'd actually seemed half-sincere, or at least, sincere enough for Sumire to think he was genuine. Mikan personally couldn't tell, but Sumrie seemed happy enough and didn't even bother asking Mikan how she'd got him to do it. Which worked out for her in the end, because it meant she didn't have to admit that she went on a date with him.

A kinda sometimes-sorta fun date.

Which led to another one.

This one.

She checked her watch again, and when she looked up, he was there.

It was still ten minutes to ten – he was early too.

Tonight, he had – as expected – cast off his school-attire and wore jeans and a dark shirt with a waistcoat on top, the pockets of which he had his hands in.

"Hey," he said awkwardly – they always started dates like this. Perhaps it was one of those things that would go away with time.

Not implying that they were going to continue dating or _go out_ or anything... probably.

"Hey..." she echoed, and decided in a split-second that she could use some of her wages from the day before to buy a few drinks and take this weird nervous edge off. If she had a drink or two everything would be normal; although she forgot that she didn't have a _normal _setting with Natsume.

"You've got cash," he observed as Mikan directed them to a bar she and Sumire often visited and bought a beer.

"I was paid yesterday," she explained, and then after staring at each other for a moment she took another sip of beer and said, "what?"

"Oh, nothing," he muttered, and went to the bar to get a beer himself – he might as well keep pace with her. Not like he had any better ideas.

* * *

_A few drinks later

* * *

_

"And then, right, like, and then, it was like... THIS big!" Mikan screeched, falling about laughing herself and making clumsy hand gestures. Natsume pulled a somewhat less impressed look, but then even he cracked a smile.

"That's a big..." he stopped and put his hand to his mouth, and then had another swig of beer... this was his... fifth? Sixth? "It's a big..."

"No, no," Mikan laughed, "_small_, it was really _small_."

"Hey!" Natsume snapped with a confused stupor, "You just said it was big!"

"...What?"

"What?"

"I..." Mikan stuttered and looked for her drink, "I think we're a bit drunk."

Natsume held his hand out in front of his face and looked at it, then back at Mikan.

"Yes, we are," he said heavily. He didn't usually drink, he didn't like losing control, but as he'd kept pace with Mikan, they'd ended up getting more and more intoxicated, actively trying to keep up with each other as they chatted with increasingly loose tongues: not that they hadn't been pretty explicit _before _they started drinking.

What they talked about he couldn't even remember anymore, it had all sort of run together, but he was vaguely sure that he didn't have the urge he usually had to hit people when he was talking to them. Normally when he talked to people his own age he found them insufferably irritating, but he hadn't felt like that tonight... maybe it was the drink.

"What should we do?" she said clumsily, tripping over her words, and Natsume suspected that she had parents at home who didn't know what kind of daughter they _really _had, and who would be appalled to see her drunk.

"Dunno," he said with a shrug, and then (what he thought was) surreptitiously put his hand on her leg.

"Hey! Hey!" she shouted in outrage, "stop that!" She picked his hand up and put it on the table. "You keep those where I can see them!" She laughed at herself, and then had another drink.

"I thought you'd stopped that," he said, confused and covering up for her offhand rejection of his advance.

"What?"

"Well, won't you get in trouble for being drunk?" He knew _he _would if his parents happened to be home.

"Eh? No," she replied, "no I won't, I... my... my mom's cool with it."

"Oh," he said enviously, and then finished his beer anyway – he was already drunk, there wasn't much he could do about it now.

"So, 'where you can see them' right?" he repeated her with a smirk, and raised both hands up off the table and put them over her eyes. "See them?" he laughed, and while Mikan giggle as well he ran his lips against hers, and when she turned her face away from him quickly he let them linger on her ear lobe – the things he wanted to do to that earlobe alone, not to mention the rest of her.

It was just a pity he was too drunk to pull it off.

"Stop! You're cheating!" she protested and squirmed away from him, looking in a compact mirror quickly to see if he'd smudged her makeup.

"Whyyy," Natsume sighed, and slumped over at her with a put-out frown, "whyyy don't you let me kiss you?" Mikan turned around to glare at him for pointing out so obviously what he was doing; if he hadn't mentioned it then they could both pretend it wasn't _really _happening.

"I mean, you've made out with worse guys, right?" he added thoughtfully, and she still didn't look won over. "I'll make it good for you," he suggested and leant over even further, only to be pushed straight back.

"Because you're _drunk_," she stated coolly, "and you're over the top, and you'll take advantage and... and I don't know what'll happen if I let you..."

She hadn't actually meant to say that last bit. Fuck.

"Ah? Oh!" he quipped proudly, "You're afraid I'll sweep you away?" She shook her head. "You _are_," he insisted, and planted one hand on either side of her, leaning in and closing up the space between them.

"I'm not! You're a _jerk_! You're a drunk jerk!" she yelled as she covered her face with her hands, and Natsume only smiled.

"You like it," he quipped, "just like _I _like how you're a slu–" Before he could finish that he was looking up at the ceiling, the reason being Mikan had just blindsided him with her handbag.

"You are wrong!" she spat, "You're completely wrong! I like you because of when you're _not _a jerk, and I don't even know why you like me, but it's not because I'm a slut... because I'm _not a slut!"_ People started to look around as her tone rose and she sounded more and more likely to start screaming.

"Whoa... okay," he backed off quickly – the last thing he wanted was tears or _worse_ – and he looked back at what he said and noticed what it actually meant.

He didn't do this often, but he was drunk, so...

"I'm sorry," he slurred, "didn't mean it. Don't get upset." The scary thing was that he was genuine; he meant his not-meaning it.

"I'm not upset," she snapped, and stood up, wobbling slightly, and then putting on her coat to leave. "Com'on, let's go." Natsume didn't see a reason to argue, for fear of sticking his foot in his mouth again, and followed orders and followed her.

Mikan waited at the door for him, she might have been mad at him, but she wasn't an idiot: she wasn't going to wander, _drunk_, around the city at night alone.

The moment they got outside she started noticing the looks – so she was staggering a _little_, why did guys seem to think this was like a flashing whore-beacon or something?

She _wasn't _a whore-beacon. Or any other kind of beacon. Or whore.

She grabbed Natsume's arm nervously and moulded her body close to his, and the propositioning looks started to subside – people stopped looking at 'obvious' couples in that kind of way.

"Eh?What the..." Natsume mumbled.

"Shut up, just pretend you're my boyfriend," she sighed as she slipped her hand in his coat pocket and grabbed hold of his hand. The action gave Natsume a jolt he'd never felt anything like before, and he squeezed her hand back tentatively.

"Why pretend?" he asked – intoxicated and open in a way he really wasn't sober.

"Huh?" Mikan didn't really understand, although there _was _something nice about walking with their hands in his pocket; in spite of what she'd believed it actually felt kind of easy being close to him. A week ago he'd just been the 'Library kid', but in a short time she'd met the person he _actually _was, behind the front. She kinda-sorta liked that guy, when he wasn't being a total jerk.

"Hey?" he said quietly, "Where do you live?"

"Huh? What? No! You're not staying over!" she snapped, but he simply laughed and squeezed her hand again.

"I didn't think... I was just gonna take you home." He wasn't an idiot; he'd seen the looks men had been giving her too, he'd been returning some smug 'she's mine' of his own, but he was damn sure she wouldn't be on her own until she was inside her house. No way was she going to be raped on _his _watch.

Her mom would be home, he assumed, so he didn't plan on trying to get inside – other nights, there would be other nights – if she answered his question, that was.

"It's not safe," he remarked, as they stumbled into the station and found they'd be getting the last train, "so, where do you live?"

"Uh, _there_." She pointed on the map, and they barged onto the train; it was crowded with the rush of people trying to get home before transport stopped, and they were pressed close together – face to face, as it would happen (i.e. Natsume did it on purpose).

As the train started moving, and they were jostled even closer, Natsume went in for a kiss on instinct, and as usual Mikan backed away.

"Hey," she whined, "you always try to do that."

"I'm not gonna stop until you let me," he retorted, and in his current state of mind didn't realize that it was the first time since Yuri that he'd ever had to be 'allowed' to kiss a girl; usually he just took, and they didn't resist.

"There's loads of people here," she whispered.

"So?"

"So it's weird."

"'So'? I _want _you." Mikan didn't reply; he made demands like that seem ordinary, when normally telling a girl you 'wanted' them was actually a bit weird and creepy.

He _was _a bit weird and creepy to be fair.

"We're drunk, we'll end up regretting it," she feebly tried to make an excuse, and at the same time realized exactly how tightly the two of them were squeezed together, and the arm he happened to have around her waist, and the other hand subtly creeping up the back of her neck; his fingers twisting coils in her hair; his warm breath and tangy cologne-smell in her nose.

"That's fine by me," he murmured, and then leant in again. This time she didn't stop him, she didn't have the will anymore, and their cold-chapped lips met – _consensually_. It ended quickly but he kissed her again, harder, and very quickly he insinuated his fingers in the back of her hair while their lips parted a little way, their tongues shyly exchanging brief contacts. People _were _looking, but to be fair neither of them actually cared all that much.

Mikan broke the kiss first, as her head started to feel heavy, and she extricated her mouth to let her forehead sink down and rest against his collarbone; far from being disappointed Natsume combed his fingers through her hair and held her tighter in the embrace – he couldn't ever remember wanting to just kiss a girl this much before, and it had definitely never been as much of a pay-off as that had.

He hadn't expected it, but waiting had been _worth _it: he rarely thought waiting was ever worth it, but looking back on it he didn't think that this first proper kiss would have been nearly as good if he hadn't had to fight for it. Not to mention how wonderful it felt to embrace her like this; everyone was looking, and that was _good_, he _wanted _everyone to see.

And he wanted her so much more than he'd ever wanted anyone before.

He found her ear with his mouth and and put his lips to it. "Mikan, go out with me," he whispered hotly – the one thing he _never _thought he'd say to anyone, and now not only was he saying it, but he wanted it. He wanted her to be his girlfriend, he wanted to get even closer to her and prove how much better he was than shit-for-brains Andou or Narumi-sensei or anyone else she fucked.

And why shouldn't he be able to do it? What was there to stop him having a proper relationship? Yes, in the past he'd been scathing and unwilling, and thought it would never be for him, but that was because there wasn't anyone he wanted that he couldn't have already. He only had himself to prove wrong, and considering how very much he wanted her, that was something he could live with.

"You're drunk," she said yet again, but he could tell she was blushing, "you don't mean it."

"I've never meant anything more," he replied, and clenching his hand to the back of her head pulled up her face to close his mouth over hers; kissing her more aggressively and getting a stronger taste of the beer on her tongue. She kissed him back, of course, and Natsume was sure that with _this _kind of chemistry there was no way she'd say no.

"You..." She tore away from him and took a heavy breath, while the train drew to a stop at a station and the carriage emptied a little more – although he didn't hold her any looser. "You talk to me _tomorrow_," she said hazily, "and you say that tomorrow, and _then _I'll think about it."

"You mean you'll say yes," he suggested cockily as he laid his lips over hers again – no matter how many times he did it he still needed _more_.

"I mean I'll _think _about it," she countered, allowing the kisses but not initiating any herself yet. "_I'm _drunk, I can't think about this sort of thing now." He found her ear and blew against it.

"What sort of thing _do _you want to talk about?" he suggested lewdly, and she just giggled.

"Let's talk abouuuttt..." She wriggled against him and he groaned with enjoyment at the back of his throat. "Abouttt... the weather." She teased because she _could_; they knew the game they were playing, but she refused to play it the normal way.

"You want to talk about the _weather?_" he scoffed, and then his insides liquefied and crawled up into his chest caviety as she raised her arms and looped them around his neck; she leant her forehead against his collarbone again.

"Sure, it hasn't rained all week, isn't that great?" she remarked, and he laughed again at the silliness of it all.

"Why not?" he replied sarcastically.

"It _is_ great," she insisted, "it's such a pain when it rains, you have to wear big coats and take umbrellas everywhere, they never fit in my bags."

"I just don't go out," he remarked, and she laughed and he could feel it in his own chest.

"Because you're anti-social," she teased, and he twisted his face down to drag a kiss along her cheekbone.

"I'm plenty social."

"As if," she scoffed, "you have what, _one _friend?" She felt him stifen.

"I could say the same to you," he retorted coolly, "you hang with that slut, and then-" He never finished for her violently wrenching herself out of his arms.

"Don't talk about my friends like that," she threatened, "take it back!"

"I don't take back the _truth_," he snapped, and flinched as she made an agressive move towards him, but didn't hit him.

"I.. I forgot what a bastard you really are," she said icily, "thanks for reminding me before I did something stupid."

"Stupid like fucking me?" he suggested; he _thought _he was right. He thought he was bang on, and that if things hadn't gone the way they did right now she would've let him have his way with her: after all, for walking her home he probably deserved it.

"No!" she screamed back, dispelling his previous notions, "Stupid like _falling for you!"_ They were almost at her station now, and she turned her back on him and ran down the carriage, moving into the next one and waiting anxiously by the doors. Natsume glowered at her; Sumire _was _a slut, she'd proven herself as much of a tool as any of the other girls he'd fucked, and he didn't see why he should have to take it back when he obviously knew it was true.

The train stopped and Natsume watched Mikan getting out, striding off down the platform, and it was as the doors started to close in front of him that he suddenly realized '_oh fuck! What have I done?!' _and made a desperate, last-second leap for the window closing right in front of him.

* * *

I had a little difficulty ending this, but I'm kinda happy with the way it went. Does Natsume make it? Yes? No? You'll have to find out ;P

Revieeew please, I got a lot of goodies in this chapter, surely I deserve a few poxy reviews?


	10. X

Updated! Thanks for reading, and I've got no more to say, really.

Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

"Fuck!" Natsume yelled, and there were a number of things which could have caused it.

It could be because he didn't make it off the train in time and had to watch Mikan walk away from him.

It could be because he _did _make it off the train, but she had already gone and he couldn't find her, so he was stranded at a station miles from his house without any way of getting home.

It could also be because he'd stuck his arm in a closing door.

"Son of a bitch!" he swore as the doors clamped down on his forearm and people around made empathetic 'that's gotta hurt' hisses. The doors pumped again, and sent another jolt of excruicating pain through his trapped limb, and then they _finally _released, and he staggered onto the platform gripping his arm.

She better still be there.

"Natsume!" Thankfully, she was. Mikan vaulted over the barriers and ran over to him; knelt on the platform cradling his throbbing arm. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Uh… being stupid," he groaned, and snatched his injured arm away from her when she tried to look at it.

"Don't be a baby!" she snapped, and pulled his arm out, running her hands over the red strip-marks gently.

"Oow!" he moaned, and she just made clicking sounds with her tongue at him.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, and his eyes found the floor.

"I…" he slurred, "I'm drunk?"

"Drunk _and_?" She knew there was something more to it than that.

"Drunk… and... I said I was going to make sure you got home," he muttered, "it's past midnight already... and it's..." Mikan stared at him for a few moments, and then heaved a sigh.

"_How_?" she asked herself pitiably.

"Eh?"

"How are you always two things at once?"

"I'm not…"

"A complete asshole one minute, and then you throw yourself into closing doors the next, because it's dangerous for me to go home alone. If you were _going _to be nice then why did you start saying all those horrible things?"

"_I _can't tell how you're going to react to what I say," he retorted in frustration, "I don't understand you at all." He didn't like to admit this, but it was true.

"You don't understand _anyone_, Natsume, not even yourself," she huffed, "you just _think _you do."

"I do!" he protested, and then found himself dragged to his feet as she stood up – pulling him along with her.

"You just look at the surface," she complained as they powered along, "you judge people before you even know them."

"I've _known _people more than enough," he sniped, and she tightened her hand around his swelling arm and he genuinely yelped.

"You don't know them at all," she replied tiredly, "but you're never going to realize it until you find out for yourself… so, just…just shut up... and let's go." She dragged the two of them through the barriers, shivering as they hit the cold night air. She didn't want to get into any more arguments, so she hoped that by not talking about things would buy them a temporary peace; she could make him understand…

When? When was she planning to do that? When she was _going out _with him?

He noticed her shivering, and without speaking took his uninjured arm, grabbed her hand, and then put it into his pocket – he could warm a hand at least.

"Um, no really I'm…" she attempted, but he wouldn't let her go, and eventually she gave up.

"Your hands are really warm," she said after a while.

"It's my Alice," he replied edgily, "I'm always running a temperature."

"Really?" She knew there were some weird side-effects to Alices, but that was probably one of the oddest she'd heard yet.

"I wouldn't make something like that up, would I?" he said tersely, and Mikan dropped the subject; Alices were, and always would be, something no one who had them really liked to talk about.

Well, no one like _them_, at least. People who had good Alices maybe.

Too bad they weren't good.

Eventually they arrived at her house, both almost sober now and Natsume's arm only aching with a dull throb.

"Well… we're here," Mikan said nervously, and watched Natsume tip his head to look past her into the house – lights all turned out. He didn't bother asking, because he assumed that her mom would be in bed.

"You can get in, right?" he asked, and Mikan nodded after a pause. "Okay, then," he said, "bye… I guess."

"How will you get home?" she asked timidly, and he shrugged.

"Ruka lives around here, I think, so I'll probably see if I can crash there." He said it like it was something he'd done a few times before, and Mikan didn't want to think about the circumstances that had brought about those times. Not when he was pretending to be a decent person for a while.

"Okay… you'll be all right, then?"

"I'll be fine, I've…" _done it before_ is what he was going to say, but he left it unsaid – not that Mikan didn't clock it.

"Goodnight, then," she said awkwardly; somehow they'd managed to come full circle and end up exactly where they started, and then Natsume changed that by closing his hand around her shoulder just as she turned to walk to open her door.

She had, at that moment, absolutely no idea what he was going to do; he could do _anything_. So she took a breath and simply waited.

He leant over her shoulder, curling around the shape of her neck, until his face was almost level with hers; he turned inwards and his lips came lightly into contact with her cheek. He let go of a breath afterwards, and it blew warm steam over the recently-pecked cheek.

"Goodnight," he said quietly, and then he, and the warmth that accompanied him, was gone.

Mikan informed her heart that it shouldn't beat like that if it knew what was good for it. It was just a goodnight kiss. And he was horrible, and mean, nasty, rude, arrogant and...

She couldn't stay away.

* * *

Natsume wandered around the vaguely familiar streets for half an hour or so, and then when he came across a landmark he recognised, but still had no idea _where _he was, he gave up and called Ruka.

"Natsume? What the fuck?" his friend moaned sleepily, and nearly hung up the phone, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "but... you know what it's like." Ruka knew, Natsume had done this more than once – called him in the middle of the night, lost, needing directions or a place to sleep: usually both.

"Fine," he groaned, "where are you?" He reluctantly got out of bed and put on a dressing gown, giving Natsume directions to his house as he unlocked his front door. Natsume was only about five minutes walk away, as it turned out: he was just terrible at finding places in the dark.

"So, who was she?" Ruka asked wearily as he opened the door to him.

"No one special," he muttered defensively, and walked inside quickly.

"...You haven't had sex tonight," Ruka observed as he passed him, and Natsume froze. The fact that Ruka could tell that was just a _little _creepy, let alone the fact that he was right.

"So?" he clipped.

"I was just saying," he replied casually, and then on a totally unrelated note added, "the spare bed's empty, as usual."

"Thanks," Natsume murmured as he kicked off his shoes and wandered into the hall.

"So who was she? She must be special if you're out this late but you didn't get her into bed," Ruka remarked, and Natsume found himself even more unwilling to answer. He didn't want to admit he'd been chasing a girl who outsmarted him half the time, who made him injure himself like an idiot, who he'd only kissed but he felt closer to than anyone he'd been with, _including _Yuri.

"Just… someone," he muttered, and then quickly left with the excuse of being sleepy.

The next day, in spite of his feeling sober when he went to bed, he still managed to wake up with a slight hangover.

"Were you _drinking _last night?" Ruka asked scathingly in the morning. It was one thing for Natsume to be out all night chasing skirt, but out _drinking_?

"Well, yeah," he replied groggily, a cup of tea clasped tightly in his hands. "So?"

"She must be _really _special."

"She's not!" he snapped, and Ruka raised his eyebrows at the confession.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a 'you've-said-she's-not-special-so-really-she-probably-is' kind of way.

"She's… she's just…" he stuttered, trying desperately to find the words, "she's… different." He finally settled, and Ruka only hummed as if to say 'I see' and turned back to a mirror to finish styling his hair; he was going to have to re-bleach it soon, his roots were starting to show. His natural colour was quite light, but it was beginning to become too obvious.

"Is she at school?" he inquired, but when he looked around Natsume was already gone; heading toward the door and looking to leave.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," he said covertly, "things are still a bit…"

"What? What do you mean? You're not gonna, like, date her or something, are you?" Ruka said disbelievingly.

"Uh…" Natsume recalled his exchange with Mikan last night, and realized that even if his pride was a little battered for it, he _was _still interested in going out with her. He knew that just once wouldn't be enough, and he even wanted more than just 'fuck buddies' with her – he wanted the whole deal.

"Maybe, I guess," he shrugged as Ruka caught up to him going out the door, and he heard his friend's noise of surprise.

"Wow, she really _must _be special…" he said quietly.

"Look, I said I didn't want to talk about it!" Natsume snapped just a little meaner than he meant to. "Sorry," he muttered quickly – Ruka he had no problems apologising to because he was an equal. "Hangover, yeah?"

"No problem," Ruka replied amiably, "it's just weird to think of you actually liking a girl enough to date her."

"Tell me about it," Natsume scoffed, and Ruka joined in with the depreciating laughter.

* * *

He had hoped to see her that day at school, but from what he could find out Mikan had taken the day off. At least he didn't think about something happening to her the night before, because he _was _the night before, and he'd seen her go into her house, but he did wonder why she was absent.

So, not one to like waiting for things, but without any other choice, he had to go without seeing her and pushing his proposition.

She _was _in the next day, Natsume saw her in the canteen, but she was with friends and they left very quickly, so he didn't get an opportunity to get to her. Although it was unusual for her to approach him, he knew the pecking order would never let him live it down if he went up to her when she was with her friends, and he had to stay put.

It was at this point that he decided things were getting ridiculous, as she wasn't coming into the Library _either_, and his work was beginning to suffer because he was distracted all the time; it was still good, but no longer perfect.

Mikan was eating lunch on Wednesday with Sumire and some other girls when her phone went off, and opening the message whilst she chatted, she broke off mid-sentence when she recognised the sender.

_Look behind you._

Was the only thing it said, and she whipped her head around, catching sight of a guy a few tables behind with a phone in one hand and his chin resting on the other; he had his glasses on today.

He lifted his head off his hands and turned his palm to face her, and then wiggled his fingers in a scathing 'coo-ee' kind of wave. Mikan tried not to go red as she remembered her all-too vivid memories of kissing him; it was _good _kissing. Disgustingly so.

_What do you want?_

She messaged back quickly, and watched him read it and break out into a smirk. Barely seconds after recieving the message her phone went off again, just one word inside the message.

_You._

He was still looking at her, and Mikan felt an odd sensation of talking to the real him while he was in the fake him's body. In school he tailored all his actions towards being percieved as an ordinary work-a-day dork, but it was no dork she made out with on a train, or got walked home by, or was given toe-curling goodnight kisses by.

She half considered making him come over and say that to her face, but Mikan realized that would mean she'd blow her cover with Sumire and the other girls, who, now their secrets had been ousted, were all embarking on a 'Hyuga has a split-personality and is a jerk' campaign; she _agreed _with both of those statements; however, she didn't happen to hate him, and had been making out with him earlier that week. She wished she did hate him, it would make things so much easier, but try as she might she couldn't.

_I have detention today, after school to talk?_

She messaged back guiltily, and he got up and walked out of the hall, but before he was out of the doors, she had a new message.

_I'll be in the Library, x_

She shouldn't have felt the warm bubbly feeling that she felt reading that, particularly at the 'x' at the end, but unfortunately she _did_. She was going soft on him, and it'd barely been a week.

"Who are you texting, Mikan?" Sumire demanded, and she immeaditely buried her phone in her bag.

"No one!" she yelped, and her friends gave her suspicious looks.

"Who?! Let me see!" Sumire squealed excitedly and began to try and steal Mikan's phone.

"No one!" she shrieked while laughing.

"Is this the reason you've been 'busy' so much?" Sumire teased.

"I've _really _been busy!" she protested, scrambling up from her seat and keeping her phone and bag clear from her pursuers.

"Busy _getting your groove on_!" Sumire teased, and Mikan flushed and playfully hit her.

"I have _not!_" she insisted, and began to run away, Sumire following her with wild laughter.

"Don't you lie to me, girl!" she yelled, "I can see right through you, you know! You're _transparent_ to me!" It wasn't long before they had just started causing a scene and making noise simply for the sake of it, and thankfully for Mikan, Sumire appeared to have forgotten why she had started chasing her in the first place.

Also giving her cover was the detention - Sumire didn't have one, so she didn't think it was unusual for Mikan not to be able to go part of the way home with her. Mikan wasn't _never _going to tell her about Natsume, she just wanted to wait for a little while until things... settled, before she told her.

She wanted to work out what was going on _herself_, before she started telling other people.

* * *

When she entered the Library late after school that day, Natsume wasn't behind the desk like he usually was, but stretched out a chair with a book in his hand.

"You turned up, then," he said dryly as he registered her presence.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you might have bottled," he remarked, "changed your mind about me or something."

"Why would I do that?" she said curiously as she slowly shuffled in his direction, pouring herself into a chair near the one he was sitting on.

"Second thoughts?" he suggested, "Realized you didn't want to go out with a dork like me–"

"You keep saying that, but it's not _that _you I'm interes–" She stopped herself; admitting she was interested in him felt like sticking her head in a lion's mouth and just _hoping _it wasn't going to bite it off.

"Go on," he prompted as he closed his book and sat up, a half-smirk on his face, "what were you going to say?"

"Well," she murmured, "all this." She waved her hands around as if to gesture toward the library and everything it stood for. "It's not _really _you, is it?" Natsume shrugged. "And… the manipulative player, _that's _not really you either," she added, and he leaned forward, interested.

"You act hard-headed and uncaring because it's the easiest way to be," she speculated, "but… sometimes I get the impression that somewhere I'm seeing the _real _you… and _that's…_" She broke off as suddenly he was out of his seat, hands braced on either side of her chair, leaving over her predatorily.

"That's?" he echoed quietly, staring straight down at her in an almost frightening way.

"That's… the guy I'd go out with," she finished, less than a breath in her lungs, and then even that was stolen as his arms buckled and his mouth plummeted down on top of hers. He simultaneously lifted a hand to tip her head back and give him access to her lips, and then he stroked his fingers back down her neck as he kissed her deeply.

They came apart a few moments later, breathless, and Mikan raised a hand to run over her neck where he'd touched her; his hands were always so _warm_.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he practically moaned; running the tip of his tongue along his lips.

"Are you asking?"

"I'm asking."

"What are you asking for?" she probed, wanting him to properly _say it_, and now when they'd had a few drinks first.

He paused, Natsume knew he could say it, but he had to hold himself for a few moments to build it – he'd have to do it on a snap impulse.

He took a short breath, and then.

"Go out with me."

"And?"

"Be my girlfriend." Mikan smiled as if to say 'good boy' in a self-satisfactory way, and then pushed herself out of her seat a little way to press her lips softly against his.

"Alright then," she replied, and even Natsume couldn't help a smile.

Albeit a temporary one.

"…But I have a few _conditions_."

* * *

The last line is obviously Mikan, and I was just under-quota on this, and then trying to meet that ran totally overquota. OOPS.

Oh well, a long chapter is always nice, especially if it ends on a good note.

Such good notes are worthy of a few reviews, are they not?

:P


	11. XI

Updated at last! I had a few roadblocks writing this, but I hit it out in the end, and I'm hoping to keep this good and fast-paced, because we've still got a lot of ground to cover.

Welcome to the pre-honeymoon honeymoon period of N/M :D All is shiny and new.

Enjoy

* * *

"Conditions?" Natsume asked worriedly, as he backed away from his new _girlfriend _and stood up straight to roll a kink out of his neck from kissing her at funny angles. "What kind of conditions?"

Mikan smiled in an unnerving way.

"_One_," she began boldly. "If you ever call me a slut or anything like that it's over. I put up with that shit from other people, but if I'm going to go out with you then I don't want to hear it." She said it sternly; demanding respect. It seemed to be a reasonable enough condition, and Natsume accepted it without any objections.

"Two: I never want to see you with your glasses on."

He frowned. "What?"

"If I see them, I will break them," she stated calmly; a smile playing on her lips.

"You'll.... _Why_?" he asked in confusion.

"Because you don't need them!" she snapped. "It's stupid to wear glasses you don't need."

"It's stupid to assume someone is a dork because they wear glasses," he retorted, "but they do it anyway."

"Likewise!" she spat back. "Isn't that the same as assuming a girl is a slut because she wears a short skirt?" He paused, an obstacle thrown up in his way; she just so happened to be right about that habit of his, and he had condition one to think of now.

He glanced down at her, and as if to prove his point she had her legs crossed under a skirt that was no less short than anything else she'd ever worn. He recalled making dubious comments about 'sluts' and 'skirts' in this very room, and suddenly wondered how had he managed to end up going out with this girl.

"Well..." he said slowly, as if he was thinking of a response, when really he was wondering how he'd managed to strand himself so uncomfortably.

"_Three,_" she interrupted, "you don't tell anyone about us." That one hit him hard, and he shot her an unhappy look.

"After everything you said about not–!" he hissed, but she interrupted again and didn't let him speak.

"Stop right there!" she yelled, standing up to get on a more even level with him. "This isn't because I'm embarrassed or anything, it's _your _fault."

His fault?

"Thanks to your _history_, just about all of my friends hate you," she said icily, and he could tell, looking at her, that some part of her actually hated him too. "So I want to be sure this thing might actually work before we start talking about it." If he was honest with himself, he was a little put out by her doubt about the possibility of a relationship between them lasting long enough to be worth telling people about.

"Oh, _nice_," he muttered sarcastically, and her hand brushed against his.

"Look, I'm not saying I don't think it could work..." she murmured, and with a flick of his wrist he turned his palm upwards and cradled her hand in it; his longest fingers just grazing the softest part of her underarm. Her breath hitched and he knew she was thinking about the way everything just seemed to feel so _charged _between them, no matter what the situation was.

"Don't act like you don't feel it too," he said in a low tone. "I know you do." He stepped in until his face was level with hers, angling his mouth towards her ear.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." she said shakily, and then bolted her eyes shut as she felt his lips graze her skin.

"Liar." He did no more than whisper it, and even that was too much. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him away; too much too fast. She had that feeling of losing control around him; she'd denied it before, but he _did _kind of sweep her away.

"Well, I've got to work," she rushed awkwardly. "So really I need to go soon..."

"Didn't you think this would take long?" he suggested curtly, and she gave him a closed-off look.

"Not really... but-I-guess-kinda," she mumbled, and then found her exit blocked as he leant out and put an arm in front of her.

"Where are you going?" he inquired sinisterly as he held her back.

"Work," she replied sourly. "I've really got to go, seriously... _Natsume_, it takes ages to get there and..."

"I _meant_," he interrupted dryly, "where are you going without saying goodbye?" She didn't have time to coordinate and offer up a reasonable response, because before Mikan had time to say 'uh, what?' he had her jaw in one hand and was firmly directing her mouth toward, and hastily onto, his.

"That's not saying goodbye!" she accused, once her mouth had been released for her own use again, and he raised his eyebrows to sardonically say 'is it not?'

"How far are you going?" he asked.

"Uh? I... a long way," she answered as she walked out the door, and to her surprise he followed her – leaving the Library empty.

"How long?" he insisted.

"Are you going to do that thing where you answer questions with more questions?" she sighed, and he ran a few paces to keep up with her, cupping his hand around her arm as he drew level with her.

"Are you going to let me take you to work?" he asked insistantly, but she stopped suddenly and pushed his hand away.

"I don't need you to _take _me anywhere," she said coldly. "I can get there fine by myself." She didn't like this idea he seemed to have that she was some kind of helpless girl who couldn't do anything for herself – she was _not _that sort of person.

"Oh," he replied, slightly confused. "Well, I only meant to spend time with you." He glanced at her. "I've got a time limit, right? To convince you I'm worth it."

"You don't sound worried," she remarked scathingly, responding to his assured, cocky air in spite of the fact that they were on the verge of a row... again.

"Oh, I'm not," he smirked; his fingers returning to her forearm subtly. "I want to get it done with as soon as possible." He sounded wholly and totally confidant in himself, and Mikan wondered why she always attracted egotistical types.

"Smug prick," she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" he inquired with amusement.

"Smug. Prick," she said carefully, and without much fuss reached up to his face to remove the glasses lingering there, throwing them into a nearby bin.

"Hey!" he growled. "Those aren't cheap, you know?"

"Then maybe you should spend your money on something you _actually need_," she suggested dryly, and they moved into a furious conversation about his glasses, why he pretended to be a 'dork', how much of a dork he really was, and other significant character flaws he quite obviously possessed while they walked to the station.

She had to take a train half-way across the city, but Natsume merely saw this as an opportunity, and insisted on going with her – not, as she made clear, because she needed an escort, but because it gave them a good hour of time together. Not the best situation for a date, but he saw to it that a good fifty percent of the time wasn't spent _talking_. Although, he _almost _enjoyed conversation as much as the making out section. Mikan was delightfully good fun to antagonise, and she played along with all the point-winning games they'd engaged in from day one. _Almost _as fun was pretty good in his books.

He was sure he had things laid out now... it wouldn't take too long, and he'd be able to fuck her at last. He couldn't wait for that moment; he didn't think he would have to wait too long, there _was _still her history to consider, the first condition aside.

He would make good on his sworn revenge from all that time ago, and he'd have her in the palm of his hand – where, he might add, she obviously belonged. Eventually he assumed he would lose interest and break up with her, but for a while his attention was held, and this would be a good model for his future relationships. This (or she), of course, was not going to be a permanent fixture in his life.

"Well, thanks for riding a boring train with me, have a fun time riding back 'cause this is my stop now and you'll be all alone. Bye!" she sniggered, interrupting his cycle of thoughts; leaping up as the train stopped and leaning over, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before racing onto the platform; schoolbag and her odango-tied hair trailing behind her.

Natsusme realized _now_ that the downside to keeping her company on the train was it meant he had none going back home himself. His parents would probably be wondering why he was late anyway.

* * *

After she went off-shift Mikan decided to go with a few friends from there for a drink in a nearby bar; she had to turn down a few guys who asked for her number in the process, and when one of the girls who knew her a little asked why she'd rejected them, as it wasn't normal for her, she had to bring back the long-archived phrase 'I'm seeing someone'.

She hadn't said that since _Tsubasa_, and he'd left for university almost a year ago – since he'd been such a 'perfect' boyfriend she hadn't really been out with anyone else because she knew they would only seem like a worse version of him.

Tsubasa _had _been the perfect boyfriend on paper – sporty, attractive, older, funny and completely into her, and they'd had a lot of good athletic sex over the year-and-a-half course of their relationship.

_But_... as there had to be a but, there were still a few issues between them. Most of them involving Mikan and a certain teacher and a notable lack of clothes between them, but also some involving his shadowy Alice, which he never really explained to her. She used to find odd things in his house from time to time: slips of paper with '1000 pressups' or' 50 squats' written on, and wads of money he could never explain where they came from.

In reality he was probably involved in a gang, but he always kept Mikan firmly away from that side of his life, and it had slowly driven them apart; they stopped talking, because the wrong thing could cause him to shut down completely, and they spent less time together as more shady sorts started to hang around his house reeking of smoke and thinner.

On the surface he didn't change, and he was still the picture-perfect partner to everyone at school and when they went on dates, but she felt alienated from this new part of his life, and eventually she turned to Narumi for advice.

Which didn't really end very successfully, considering where it landed them.

In bed, of course. His Alice had a habit of doing that to the two of them.

She never told Tsubasa, but she suspected he knew she'd slept with someone else, and it became an unsaid agreement that when school ended so too would their relationship. It wasn't sad really, just a slow death from a culmination of a number of problems.

Natsume, however, was different. He wasn't going to be an imitation of Tsubasa, that was for sure.

She didn't know _what _he was going to be.

But at least it wouldn't be dull.

* * *

Mikan watched the clock; History probably couldn't be any more boring than this.

Five minutes – she couldn't wait. Twenty minutes left of the lesson but she still couldn't wait any longer.

Her hand went up.

"Sakura-chan?"

"Can I be excused from class?" she asked urgently; at first the teacher didn't want to relent, but when she implied that it was for a counselling-related appointment to do with her _Alice_ he let her go. However, she didn't go anywhere near the Dangerous branch, and instead crept along the school corridors until she reached an empty private-study room, of which the Academy had a few.

Only this one wouldn't be empty for long.

She put her bag on the floor and sat down at one of the desks, and slowly let her head fall down in her arms as she took a gratifying rest from concentrating.

"Sleepy?" a voice inquired as the door squeaked open, and she didn't bother looking up; she knew who it was.

"Bored," she replied drably, listening to his footsteps across the floor – ending just behind her.

"You're early."

"So're you," she replied, and then felt his fingers on the back of her shoulders, kneading and massaging, more for something to do than anything else, but still a surprisingly intimate gesture considering how long they'd been a 'couple' - less than a _week_.

"Coincidence," he said offhandedly, and then suddenly crawled forward over the chair just as she turned around to look at him, forcing her to back up onto the desk and slide out of his way as he advanced. Hands planted on either side of her, Natsume offered one of his most predatory, 'I want you' looks as he eyed Mikan up and down; sprawled out below him on the desk.

"Hello to you too," she snickered, sliding herself back as he tried to lurch forward, and she pushed the tip of her shoe into his stomach to stop him lowering himself down on top of her. "You're in a _good _mood." Read _horny _mood.

He slid a hand underneath her, palming her upper back and lifting her upper body off the table, unhesitatingly crushing his mouth over hers.

One of Mikan's hands threaded through the back of his hair, and her fingers gradually trailed down the back of his neck as they kissed, ending up tucked just under his collar against the hot skin of his neck.

He shifted his weight and let a leg settle between hers, and Mikan reminded herself that if _he_ had his way they would've done just about everything there was to do by now, and although some part of her secretly wanted him to get his way, she knew not to let herself get swept away too fast; she knew what he did to girls he laid too quickly.

She extricated herself from him and sat on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs and stretching out her body, contently twisting and flexing all the places his hands had coasted by so studiously.

"It's a bit weird, meeting in secret like this," she remarked, while she heard creaks that suggested he'd got off the desk and into one of the chairs – his feet propped up lazily on the table.

"Your conditions," he reminded her casually; he'd had his fix of her now, and got pretty far with it as well, so he was now more-or-less content to pass the time in other ways. It wasn't like they could have sex on the desk or anything anyway – this was a _classroom, _what were they in a piece of fanfiction or something?

"I know, I just meant it's like forbidden love or something," she replied cheerfully.

"You'd know about that sort of thing," he commented quietly, and she whipped her head around to stare at him – _yes_, she probably would know about that sort of thing, but on the other hand, he was making some dodgy and possibly condition-violating suggestions.

"I'm not criticising," he muttered, "I was just saying." He paused, and true enough, there wasn't really an accusatory tone to his voice; more like a slightly curious one. "I was just saying you'd know about forbidden love and shit... I mean, it's normal when you're going out with someone to talk about things, right? Things about yourself, or... your past," he suggested, and Mikan's face warmed up as she realized he was kind of right.

"Well..." she murmured awkwardly. "I'll... I guess... I'll tell you things about my past if you tell me some too."

"Oh, an exchange?" he said.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Should I go first, then? I asked the first question."

Mikan was quiet for a moment as Natsume's question brewed, and then hopefully said, "Pass?" However, one look told her that was not acceptable.

"Fine..." she sighed. "You want to know about Narumi, right?" Natsume noticed immediately that 'Narumi' was just that – his name with no -sensei attached.

"Why not?" He shrugged; actually wanting to know a hell of a lot more than he let on.

"Well... yes, the rumours are true; there's a lot of stuff with his Alice that happens, and I _do_ know about that whole 'forbidden love' or whatever. But," she stipulated. "_But_, we've never... been like _this _on grounds." Natsume looked at her curiously.

"It was always outside of school," she explained, "he's an important person to me, since my dad's gone. I've been at his place more than once." Another reference to her absent father – Natsume knew what question he wanted to ask next. After he found out more about her fucking her teacher in his own home, of course.

"My turn!" she said brightly, and Natsume half-heartedly tried to argue that it wasn't a long enough answer, but she insisted he should be thankful for what he got and carried on herself.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked – surprisingly mediocre considering the things she _could _ask him.

"Yes," he replied. "A sister, younger." Mikan looked shocked.

"Really?" she said. "You seem like an only child type."

"Why?"

"I don't know, because you always act like you think you deserve everything you want; _spoilt_, basically," she teased, and he got up from his chair to slide in next to her on the desk and hook his arm around her waist.

"I _do _get everything I want," he suggested proudly, and she sighed.

"Exactly what I mean," she said. "What's her name?"

"Eh? Hey! You can't ask two questions in a row!" he griped.

"You already asked yours!" she claimed. "You said 'why?', that's a question, isn't it?" Natsume was quiet for a second.

"You _cheateeer_!" he yelled, and pulled her back by her waist while securing his other hand on her shoulders to push her down, pinning her to the desk and springing one knee over her to sit on top of her hips and cement her in place; his hands holding her arms to the table and preventing her from fighting back.

"I'm not a cheater!" she insisted, trying to ignore exactly how erotic their position was, and especially the way it excited a shameless part of her. "You asked a question, and I answered it! It's totally–!"

She never got the chance to finish that sentence, because he'd already commandeered her mouth and lips from her, and was putting them to some _other_ passionate use.

It wasn't like _he _hadn't noticed their position too. _Please_, what did she take him for?

All said, it was a pretty good use anyway.

* * *

Finished! At last! :P  
This will be the only full chapter in this stage of the relationship - as you've probably gathered I'm not going to pace it all out, more like dash furiously through the whole thing so my mind doesn't get away from me :D

If you liked it, or even disliked it, please leave a review!


	12. XII

Merry Christmas everyone!

I finally gave in to my pa and I'm going skiing this year. I was going to spend it with friends and revise for modules in January BUT THE SNOW IS SO AMAZING I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Therefore, you won't hear from me for a week – obviously I've been absent a little with the approach of yule, so here's a chrimbo chapter and EVERYONE HAVE A ROCKING CHRISTMAS!

See you in the new year XD

* * *

Ruka didn't bother going to sleep until he heard the knock at the door, and opening it to Natsume – overnight bag under his arm – he tiredly asked, "So, who's your girlfriend?" This was the third night in just over a week; he knew _something_ was different with this new 'project'.

"Classified information," Natsume answered groggily as he trudged inside and leant against the wall to kick off his shoes.

"What?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you," he explained, "well, not yet." Ruka frowned, not because he was hurt Natsume didn't think of him as enough of a friend to tell – which he could be, but wasn't because he knew Natsume didn't get that kind of close to anyone – but because he used the word 'allowed'.

"_Allowed?_" he quoted disbelievingly. "When did you start needing permission?" Natsume didn't answer, but pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal a small series of knuckle-sized bruises on his arm.

"When she turned violent." He appeared to think for a moment. "Wait, she was always violent." Ruka chuckled and wrapped his dressing gown tighter around himself – his parents were heavy sleepers, so he didn't have to worry about waking them up.

"Besides, until I seal the deal I've got to play it her way," Natsume explained. "She's kind of... hard to handle."

"I'll bet," Ruka laughed. "You've never spent this long on a girl since I've known you." Natsume wasn't entirely thrilled with that 'achievement', but he didn't care as much as he might have a few weeks ago.

"So, you're not single anymore?" Ruka inquired, and Natsume shrugged. Then when Ruka refused to stop staring at him – implying that the answer wasn't satisfactory – he nodded his head and mumbled something like 'yeahIguessso'.

"Heh," he chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day." Natsume felt his face grow warm, which didn't happen all that often, and he quickly headed towards the room. Once he had the upper hand again things would be different, this was just a temporary surrender of power in order to gain more overall – lose a battle, win the war.

He just wished he wasn't enjoying it so much.

"So," demanded Sumire when Mikan came into school with bags under her eyes and yet another mysterious love-bite on her neck. "Who is he?"

"I... don't know what you're talking about," Mikan murmured guiltily, and was subsequently assaulted and practically tied to a bench.

"Nu-uh, you aren't getting out of this one," Sumire said sternly. "I want to know about him, _now_." She sounded serious, but really Sumire was just putting her foot down in a joking way – Mikan would have told her anyway, but this way around she learnt sooner and got to have fun teasing her as well.

"I _caaaan't_," Mikan whined. "You'll kill me." Suddenly the fun died and Sumire's face was drained of all good-naturedness.

"You..." she whispered darkly, "you don't mean...." She glared at Mikan, who wondered what Sumire was thinking.

"Not _him_?" Sumire hissed; the catty side of her Alice beginning to show.

"What?" Mikan said in confusion. "Why do you look so..."

"I thought you two swore it wasn't going to happen again!" Sumire snapped, and Mikan suddenly realized who she thought she was talking about.

"Oh! No, not... _Sensei_," she said quickly. "Nothing like that, we've barely talked since... yeah." Looking at your teacher and knowing what he looked like naked – and with your legs wrapped around his waist – didn't really make conversation _flow_; it generally just made it awkward.

"You sure?" Sumire was still deadly serious, and it took a while longer for Mikan to convince her she really had nothing to do with Narumi, and he _wasn't _the 'no-one' she was seeing.

"_So?!_ Who is he?" re-stated Sumire. "If it isn't Narumi-sensei, then _who_?" Mikan wanted to tell her, but she just wanted to be a little bit surer; yes, she and Natsume had some disgusting amount of chemistry, but their arguments could be just as bad as their goodmoments, and if they were going to break up as soon as they got into a fight she didn't see the point.

She needed a little more time.

"Look, I'll tell you, but not right now, okay?" she pleaded. "I want to be really sure I like him, and if I tell you then you'll try to change my opinions. I want to make my mind up by myself." She'd done exactly that all her life, but Mikan knew that in this situation if Sumire found out she was seeing _Natsume _then she'd easily be able to persuade her out of the whole thing.

As loathed as she was to admit it, she didn't actually want that.

"When?" Sumire asked icily.

"Tomorrow, I swear," she said. "I'll see him tonight and make up my mind."

"Oooh?"Sumire raised one eyebrow. "You mean _do_ him?"

"No!" Mikan snapped. "Definitely not! That'd be..." She broke off.

"What? It would be _what_, Mikan?" Sumrie questioned, and Mikan persuaded her to drop it if she bought her lunch – Sumire was craving tuna-fish today.

* * *

His palms slid across her stomach, warm through her cotton t-shirt, and then found the band of skin where the shirt ended. With his fingertips at first, and then up to his knuckles, he slipped his hands under the top and felt bare skin underneath; all while engaging in a heated clash of tongue and lip that was fully reciprocated.

When he had both his palms in subterfuge beneath her top, he started to gradually ease it up, his fingertips hitting the soft ridge of her ribs as he edged the cotton up her stomach. She seemed to notice his 'progress', and, far from rejecting him, rolled her upper body into his touch; knotting her fingers tighter into his hair, she pulled his mouth harder against hers, and Natsume wondered what the point in going to a cinema was if they weren't actually going to watch the film. There were plenty of dark places he knew that were far more suited to this kind of interaction.

However, Mikan made sure that he got no farther than feeling up to her ribs that night – for a slu... for what she was, she was certainly playing coy with him.

"If I didn't know you," he remarked as they left the cinema and she subtly shrugged out of the arm remaining around her shoulder. "I'd think you were frigid." She whirled around to look at him, and she didn't look pleased.

"Oh, and because you _know _me you know I'm not _really _frigid?" she inquired dangerously. "What are you trying to say?"

"Eh, nothing," he grunted.

"No! You were implying _something_," she accused. "What was it?" He knew, and she knew, but if either of them admitted it then it just might throw the whole relationship down the toilet, and they were barely a week in.

"Really, nothing," he said again, colder.

"Fine," she hissed, and then grabbing him by the wrist jerked him around to face her and shoved him back against the nearest wall.

"Do you want to know _why_ I won't let you feel my chest or stick your hand up my skirt or take me to one of your seedy little dives?" she spat angrily, and although he didn't answer; it was clear Natsume did.

"I'll tell you; it's because I know damn well that as soon as I let you get any, the respect I've been doing my fucking best to earn from you goes _bam_!" She made a motion with her hands to emphasise the end of their 'relationship', and some part of Natsume admitted she was probably right.

"It's a goddam laugh that I even have to earn your respect in the first place, but you're so fucked in the head that keeping an arm's length is the only way I'm actually likely to get through to you," she said bitterly, her arms crossed over her chest as she merely _stared _Natsume against the wall.

"I'm not–!" he retorted.

"You _are_!" she screeched back. "You're the most fucked up guy I know!"

"Why are you bothering with me, then?!" he snapped furiously, raising his voice to a volume that let other passers-by know that there was a serious domestic row going on. "If I'm such a thorn in your side then why waste your fucking time?"

"Because!" she replied, and then stopped and cut herself off – taking a breath, she started again. "Because..." She stepped forwards, her hands slightly outstretched, and fisted them in his shirt.

"I've got this... _thing_ with you," she said, much softer; the flash of anger had faded – on her side, at least. "There's like this _thing _that stupidly makes me think it's actually worth my time and effort to be with you. You are such a jerk most of the time I wouldn't think twice about ditching you, but you...." His hands were on her waist, and his fingers nearly met around the small of her back.

"You haven't," he reminded her, his tone sultry and warm as he pulled her closer to him.

"_I know_... every time I think about it something stops me, something that–" She broke away as his mouth crashed into hers, and they relaxed into the notion that doing _this _was so much better than arguing; it was in fact the thing holding them together.

For now, at least.

People leaving films a few minutes ago would have noticed the young couple arguing and screaming at each other; being relieved that they were too old for that sort of thing anymore. However, people leaving more recent showings would notice the young couple making out passionately against the wall and envy that lustful young love.

"So, it's been a while," he said breathily as they parted mouths. "It's getting harder to ignore you at school. Are you... ready to start telling people? Some people have been asking questions..."

"Really?" she replied. "Sumire's been interrogating me." She glanced into his eyes, and at the same time his always-warm hands ran smoothly up her back. The simple action made her shiver and burrow her face into the crook of his neck longingly. She wouldn't, and _couldn't _admit it, but she wanted him so much – if she admitted it then things might go a bit haywire, and she wouldn't be able to control what she did: that alone could ruin everything.

"Then we're set?" he inquired coolly – more riding on this than they let on. "You're prepared for _people_ to know you're dating me?"He felt her shrug against him, and they shared knowledge of the anonymous 'them' who judged indiscriminately – while Natsume had always thought Mikan was one of them, he'd realized very quickly that she was simply a different kind of isolated.

"Sure," she said. "I haven't surprised them in a while anyway." She lifted her face, and they kissed again.

* * *

"WHO?!" Sumire and Ruka gaped when Natsume and Mikan, seperately, broke the news to them.

"You heard me," Natsumre replied coolly.

"I _know_," groaned Mikan, with her face in her hands.

"_Why?!_" Sumire and Ruka asked next.

"She's... persistant," Natsume said dryly. "If I could've laid her once and be done with it, believe me I would have. But there's something about her that makes me hang on... I'll fuck her, no doubt about that, but I actually don't mind spending time with her..."

"...And even though half the time he's a total jerk, there's this other side in him that I don't think other people see," Mikan explained to her sceptical friend. "Like, this repressed nice-guy, who sometimes he forgets not to be, and suddenly comes out; and then he's got like this _fixation_, and for tiny moments at a time it's like, this _thing _that is so amazing it practically makes all the other shit worthwhile." Sumire tapped her nails against the table.

"How do you know," she said icily, "that the nice guy isn't an act, and really he's just an asshole deep down? Playing you for a fool?"

"I can just tell," she pleaded. "Really, he's like... an _onion_ – layers and layers of bad-smelling crap

on top of each other."

"Why didn't you tell me," Ruka inquired. "when I first asked you?" Natsume shifted his vision away from his friend's perceptive eyes.

"Like I said, at first I didn't want to say anything until I'd got her into bed – to save my pride I guess, and then _she _happened, and I was kinda confused, and by the time I had my head straight she'd made up all these rules I had to play by or _else_."

"Or else?"

"Or else she'd end it," he said bluntly, and both of them realized that this was the first time Natsume genuinely did not hold all the cards – yes, he was _fairly _sure Mikan wouldn't be able to let him go just like that, but he wasn't _that _sure, and he had a suspicion that her obstinacy would give her limitless strength to break up with him.

For once, he had to keep the favour of someone else; instead of it being the other way around.

Ironically enough Mikan thought exactly the same thing – she was working herself stupid trying to win some simple goddam respect from him, and if she failed to escape his predictions just once it'd be game over for her.

"Mikan," Sumire said frankly. "You _do _realize what he could do to you, right?"

"You do realize she's changing you, right?" Ruka remarked forebodingly.

"I know," replied Mikan and Natsume in unison – in spite of their being in separate locations and on different time-frames. "But... I'm willing to take that risk."

"Who knows," Natsume muttered awkwardly afterwards. "Maybe it could be for the better." Ruka's eyes widened slightly at this – it was one thing for Natsume to like a girl enough to date her, and not to consider her an immensely inferior being; but here he was admitting that perhaps _she_ had the ability to improve him as a person.

That not only showed the way he thought of her – an equal at the very least – but the fact that he was open to the idea that he _could _be improved; that he wasn't perfect.

For Natsume, that was a _lot_.

It could be said, in that respect, that Ruka was the one who saw it coming first.

* * *

A slight transition chapter, but still important methinks :D

Leave a review for christmas spirit?


	13. XIII

Woo I got one more chapter out before I go skiing! I'll see the rest of you in the new year, and I'm making sure to keep this powering along like I'll be powering along those ski-slopes :P

Enjoy!

* * *

Having people discover that dorky-weirdo-anti-social-Library-boy was dating the hottest (and loosest) girl in school was actually surprisingly fun, in spite of the far-from-content way it started off.

At first, of course, no one would believe it – in spite of Sumire's many insistences – but when Ruka happened to overhear a conversation and casually added 'it's true, you know', that made the whole thing blow up way out of proportion. Now there was a second testifier, and the stories got wildly out of control.

People started to stare at Natsume constantly, watching for any sign that the rumour was true – any_thing _that would suggest why he was supposed to be dating the hottest girl in school. Girls started to notice that actually behind his dorkiness he wasn't really ugly, and if you had the right eye for it he _could _be considered attractive.

Who were they kidding, you only needed _eyes _to notice that his unpleasantness was only skin-deep. Soon it wasn't just guys staring at him looking for his secret, it was girls constantly checking him out. The Library became a hot spot for girls 'inconspicously' ogling his each and every move. There were theories about if he worked out or not, his weight, how strong he was, how he looked like without his glasses on and if he was good in the sack.

Natsume himself got _very_ bored of this _very_ quickly, and started to bark and snap at people who so much as _looked_ at him too long, and the library became even more unwelcoming – if that was even possible – than it was before. Mikan, in contrast, was treated like a leper by her circle of friends, who couldn't believe she'd do something so completely gross as _that_ – they'd accepted a teacher, but a _dork?!_ It was simply too much for them. She lost the respect and interest of a significant number of guys, and gained the disapproval of a similar number of girls.

Not that she _actually _cared, it just made things a little bumpier for her, and she started going out with Sumire straight after school and staying out until she was broke or too drunk to think about it.

There were a sceptical proportion who still refused to believe it; insisted that it was just a bogus rumour that had no founding. However, this all changed at the end of that week, when lunch break was rung in by a very different sort of alarm.

"You're just an insensitive dick who thinks with the wrong fucking head!" screamed Mikan in one of the most highly-trafficked corridors in school, and many turned around to see who it was she was screaming at.

Some were surprised, some weren't, to see that she was directing her anger at Hyuga Natsume; who leant against the wall with a bored look on his face.

"What?" he grunted, and shrugged as if he couldn't care less.

"Don't give me 'what' shit!" she yelled. "Would you like it if I stared down the shirt of every single girl who walked by?!" Natsume's eyebrows shot up, as if to suggest 'I might like that a whole _arousing_ lot', and Mikan flushed as she realized the flaw in her example.

"I mean..." she stuttered – lost for words – then pushed some younger-years out of the way as she stormed away from him.

"Fine. Walk away," Natsume said shortly. "It gives me a better view." His line of vision wasn't directed anywhere near Mikan's _face_, more in the vicinity of her ass.

"Dick!" she screamed and turned back to charge at him; running with such speed that he was genuinely surprised to find she didn't slow down when she was close to him.

She didn't even _stop_.

She jumped instead, looping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and taking him over with her weight. He staggered, and people around them parted, and the two of them tumbled straight over the top step of the staircase.

Natsume, being the bottom, and Mikan, letting go as soon as Natsume was falling, landed in a semi-revealing but highly disgruntled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Miraculously no one was seriously injured.

Except Natsume's pride, of course.

"What the _fuck _do you think you're doing?!" he snarled, as she picked herself up and started re-arranging her skirt.

"Silly me, I guess I lost my balance," she said false-sweetly, and in an instant he had his hand snapped around her wrist and pulling her to face him. Their audience watched with bated breath.

"I call bullshit," he replied hotly. "And if you have a problem with me looking at other girls then we might as well break up now." Someone in the upper gallery hissed, as it was practically confirmed _by _them that they were (or soon-to-be _had been_) going out.

Mikan returned his look dispassionately. "You know, this chat will be so rich when you start getting jealous over me."

"That won't happen," he insisted.

"It's not _looking_ I have a problem with, it's mentally tearing off their shirts and licking their nipples," she added in an '_anyway' _sort of way. "I _can _tell the difference, you know."

"I can't," he retorted cockily, and before people realized what was what her hand was out of his hand and swiping across his face.

"Because you're a jerk who thinks with your goddam dick," she spat viciously. "Okay, testosterone boy, so why don't you try not pissing me off by keeping it under control for two fucking minutes of the day." As they argued they had gradually started to move on, and as people got hungry the viewers gradually started to shift – it seemed like the violence was over for now anyway. Although a few die-hards remained to see the outcome.

"I'm not changing for you," he sneered. "It doesn't work that way."

"Then it's not going to work," she retorted. "Everyone in a relationship changes for that person. Even if it's just putting down the toilet seat. You, however," she added in a critical way, "have much bigger problems."

"Your flattery compels me," he said sarcastically, and she backhanded him on the back of his head as they walked along an outdoor corridor. They reached the doors of the canteen.

"So," he said matter-of-factly, still sounding massively pissed off. "Time? Place?"

"Six I guess, the station?" she replied dryly as if they hadn't been having a screaming argument only moments ago. He shrugged as if to say yes, and then just as she tried to walk away stopped her with a hand on one of her bunched.

"Oi," he said darkly. "Where do you think you're going?" His hand slipped down to cup her neck and he roughly pulled her to him, resulting in a clumsy kiss that was in the full and public view of several students and teachers.

The rumour was no longer a rumour.

"Hey!" she complained when he released her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Kissing my girlfriend," he answered patronisingly, and then did it again; the fighting was bad, but they were slowly learning not to take it seriously enough to intrude on _other_ things.

"I noticed," she sniggered, taking his hand off the back of her neck and holding it in hers. "Maybe then, if you're keen enough on this 'girlfriend', you could stop staring at other girls' breasts in front of her." She grabbed his face, with her other hand, by the chin and made sure he was looking into her eyes. "We have faces, you know."

"I was aware," he replied dryly, closing his teeth over her lower lip and kneading it softly; she shivered enjoyably with the action.

"Okay, okay, enough," Mikan pleaded before they got carried away. "People will squick out."

"Like I ever cared about that," Natsume snorted, and wiped his own saliva from below her lips with his thumb; damn, just the thought of that turned him on. "I'll see you tonight."

"See-ya," she chirped, and then they parted ways to meet with their own friends; who, predictably enough, quizzed them on 'what the hell happened out there?!'

So, in spite of the slight roller-coaster tenancies their fledgling relationship seemed to contain, Mikan and Natsume got along_ just about _well enough for the first three 'official' weeks of their dating; they generally saw each other once or twice on weeknights and both days of the weekend. They fought, and argued, and on one occasion started a food fight in the canteen – quickly rocketing to the the top spot of most public and disruptive couples in school – but they bounced back with surprising elasticity and actually appeared to be a pair who might stick. At least until they became enough of an accepted fact for people to stop gossiping about them.

However, when they started to push for the one-month-barrier, cracks began to appear on the surface.

At first glance it was business as usual – they went out, Mikan didn't buy anything, sometimes Natsume treated her, but more often than not he made a point of not buying her anything, and they frequently ended up in an argument which ended up in a fight which ended up with their tongues down each other's throats in some alleyway.

But there was an added, unseen stress. On Natsume.

Now, as a mark of decency he'd _stopped _having one-night stands with whoever he could pull since the entire thing had begun with Mikan – to be fair, she monopolised all his lust and he couldn't really care less about other girls. But he didn't really use any other methods to _relieve _himself – he felt it a blow to his ego – and things like that tended to build up.

He'd had to masturbate since he got a girlfriend far more than he was comfortable with, and normally things were supposed to work the other way around.

But Mikan, to put it simply, _wouldn't put out. _She had offered many lines about retaining his respect and not selling herself short, but whenever they were getting hot and heavy and Natsume murmured 'I know a place...' he might as well have said 'I have erectile disfunction', because it was the biggest mood-killer he'd ever encountered.

He _knew _she wanted it, he could practically _smell_ it on her every time they got that kind of close, but she wasn't letting that part of herself go for some reason. And it was slowly driving him mad.

It was almost a throwback to the first few encounters with her – when he had been obsessed with laying her like he had all those girls before her. He looked back at himself with a weird sense of not quite being that person anymore – he had a _commitment _to a female, and his old self wouldn't snorted at the mere thought of that. What was more, was that he quite probably liked it.

What he _didn't _like, though, was having throbbing half-hard-ons half the time, and every time he pushed and cajoled, and on one humiliating occasion _begged, _her to come with him to some dive he could rut out his frustration on her, she consistently refused.

"I can't," she'd always plead. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not ready." Ready. She had to be 'ready'.

Natsume had fucked plenty of not-ready girls before, and the majority of their 'not ready's had been entirely in their heads.

It was driving him _nuts_.

One night, when Ruka had _again _commented on his un-laid-ness, and _the _bitch he'd been made of by _a _bitch, Natsume had sworn that _this _would be the night. He'd even brought friggin condoms, so committed was he to having her.

And he'd tried, dear god he'd tried. He'd flirted and suggested and _caressed_, a term he hated on principle (for the soppiness) but nevertheless he did it, and then he'd snapped and pushed her up against a wall outside the bar and ground his erection into her, and _hell, _if she didn't know how badly he wanted it she'd have to be an idiot.

"Come_'on_," he'd grunted as he rubbed against her, and he'd be dammed if she wasn't gagging for it too and rubbing back. "It's not far from here, I _swear_." She wriggled and pushed away from him; apology and remorse in her eyes.

"Natsume, _please_, I can't go to one of those places," she begged – she had some bad memories associated with those sorts of places, and she was in no shape to start dealing with this kind of jump yet. "If we... if I...I'm not ready... for _you_."

"Are you kidding," he leered as he slid a hand up her leg and against her panties, kneading the dampness there with his fingers. "You _want _it." Her forehead dropped to his shoulder and she desperately tried to push him back while desperately wanting to pull him closer.

"I'm _not_, if this happens now then..." Mikan nearly wept, because she _knew _what would happen if she let go – they would fuck, it would probably be amazing, but then Natsume would leave; he _always _left. She'd heard it from so many of her friends, and she already liked him too much to want that to happen.

It was tearing her apart, but she was too afraid of being left by him if she let them have sex.

"What is your fucking problem?!" he hissed angrily, as she finally got away from him, and he only chased her down again and forced his hands down her top to cup her breasts. "You are as horny as me, so –"

"I don't think _anyone _could be as horny as you," she snapped, and slapped away his hands and gave him a cuff across the jaw. "I said _no_. No means no, Natsume." She stood her ground, and he could see that it was a lost fucking cause, and he groaned, punched the wall next to him, and then just walked off.

He didn't look back.

Mikan went home, alone, and Natsume skulked into the nearest bar; his eyes hungry for anything _female_. He _would _have sex tonight – it had been too long now – and if it wasn't with Mikan; well, it couldn't be said that he hadn't given her plenty of opportunities.

He closed in on the drunkest girl of his acceptable age-band, and introduced himself as a high-flying college student who 'couldn't take his eyes off her'. She was, returning to the game after nearly a month off season, the easiest piece of ass he'd ever pulled in his life.

Perhaps it was his pheromones or something.

Nevertheless, he _did _use the protection he'd brought that night, as he did fuck the girl obscenely hard in the place Mikan had refused to go; it was almost too easy. As he plunged in and out of... not even _her_, she was just a casing for him to lose himself in, the only thing that bothered Natsume from the time he threw her on the bed until the time he came long and hard inside her, was that throughout the entire thing it was the thought of _Mikan _that kept him thrusting.

He imagined as vividly as he could persuade himself that it was _her _beneath him, screaming and bucking under his force, it was _her _he thought of as he climbed the long-awaited peak to orgasm, and it was _her _name he groaned as he finally reached that climax.

The moment it was over, he almost wished he'd jacked off instead – while heaving and panting over her sweating and unattractive body – because from the second he realized how badly he'd been fooling himself, he felt humiliation like no other – what had he _done?_

But it _was_ done, and Natsume had the poor girl out of his sight faster than you could say '_cheater_'.

* * *

Um, not a happy note to end on, but if it was all happy then the story would lose a lot of good stuff :P

This is important to the plot, I swear.

Leave a review pls, I'm going away for a week so you might as well leave some words to get me back into the next-chapter swing when I get back.


	14. XIV

I'm back from my holiday!

Skiing was fun, but I spent a _lot _of my time thinking about these two, and there is sooooo much stuff I've got planned for them, so without much ado, here is the new chapter XD

* * *

Natsume had nightmares that night.

He was talking to Mikan, and then somehow she started seeing what had happened last night – _what he'd done –_ and her mouth fell open in shock, but the sound that came out was the slaughtered-pig squealing of the other girl as he'd fucked her.

Then she started to cry, huge torrents of tears streaming out of her eye sockets at the horrific sound coming from her mouth, but as desperately as he tried, he couldn't turn off whatever it was that was showingher what happened. He tried to plead with her and it didn't work, he could barely speak, and every time he tried to say something his lips seemed to be stuffed with a different part of the other girl - he hadn't kissed her once that night, he'd just used teeth and tongue - now it came back to haunt him.

There was this horrible, sickening, poison-in-the-pit-of-his-stomach feeling as he stared at Mikan and felt the dull _thud _of the end of their relationship -- who _wouldn't _break up with a guy who cheated on her? He was a goner. And, actually, he really didn't want that.

Couldn't she understand that it was _her _fault? He did it because she turned him down too many times, he _snapped_; what was a normal eighteen year-old boy supposed to do? But Mikan didn't understand, she just kept staring at him and screaming and _crying__._

He woke up, and felt at first a huge wave of relief as he realized it was a dream – she didn't know – but then a whole new rush of guilt came, as he realized what _wasn't _a dream. He was in his bed, at home, but he'd still done what he'd done. The only thing he'd fabricated was the nightmare-scenario of Mikan knowing about it.

He _couldn't _let her know. Ever. It would be the end of everything.

And right now, that was the one thing he feared the most. The one thing he genuinely _feared_, full stop.

* * *

However, the problem was that Natsume was talented only in the art of seduction, not concealing it. The reason his cover had never been blown before was because of the girls' humiliation and the fact that he was single.

He wasn't single anymore.

The other girl happened to be a friend of an Alice Academy student, who she had called (in tears) only minutes after Natsume pulled his post-coital disappearing act, and it hadn't taken long for the girl - one of Natusme's old hits herself - to realize who her friend had been with.

"Shit, Hinako," had been her first response. "Do you realize what you've _done?!"_ That girl, having had her own experiences of slimy cheating boyfriends, felt that although Mikan might be of dubious morals, she had a right to know what her dark-horse of a boyfriend had been up to; _poor thing_, she probably didn't even know about all the girls he'd been with.

So she walked up to Mikan – who was in her class – first thing the next morning and told her 'Your boyfriend fucked my friend last night', even having text messages to prove it; not that Mikan needed proof. She had doubts anyway; almost looked like she expected it.

That was, of course, why she was silently fuming when Sumire came storming in through the doors, already updated on the news and yowling 'I told you so!' at the top of her voice.

Mikan, surprisingly, didn't scream or snap.

She was just quiet, very quiet, as Sumire told her about her boyfriend's infidelity in greater and more unnecessary detail.

She wondered if it might not have happened if she _had _agreed to go with him, but then she reminded herself that if this hadn't happened now, it would've happened sooner or later. If she _had _slept with him she'd be no better off than that girl he'd discarded like a used condom. Which, to be fair, she sort of was.

No, she wasn't really surprised.

However, that didn't mean she wasn't angry...

She was _furious_.

* * *

Natsume had spent the entire day wondering how he'd be able to keep his secret from Mikan – she _couldn_'t find out – this would just have to be one of those things he never, _ever_ told her. However, he was walking across to the Library when something hit the back of his head, like a paper ball.

"Hello _lover_," Mikan hissed icily, and before Natsume could think about why she might be calling him that there was, not a fist, but a shoe, in his solar plexus. She quite thoroughly _decked _him, and as he skidded back across the ground Natsume considered if he'd never woken up, and if this was another nightmare. Normally girls couldn't hit guys this hard – enough to throw him to the ground and knock the wind out of him.

"I don't know who the fuck you think I am!" she yelled, chasing him down and landing one pointy-heeled shoe in the middle of his chest; pushing him down onto his back just as he tried to get up. "Just what kind of dumb bitch do you take me for?!"

"Uh..." he grunted as the last uncomfortable breath in his lungs was stomped out. "What are you–?"

"Don't give me that shit!" she bellowed, and people all around them started looking at what would be remembered as the bigget and most violent fight ever taking place on school grounds. "What do you take me for?!"

"You mean you..." he stuttered – this _was _his nightmare. But it was worse, because Mikan wasn't crying, she was violent. He realized that she might _actually_ seriously hurt him. "How did you..."

"Find out? Find out you've been _fucking around behind my back?! _Oh, I have my ways, don't you assume 'we're' all the same, and stupid." She noticed his eyes surreptitiously flit up her skirt as she talked_-yelled_ at him; she did have her foot on his chest, so he _was _in the position to look in those sorts of places. In a flash she bolted her heeled shoe forwards and caught his cheekbone on the edge of it, and then with a quick roll ground his face into the floor.

If he had wanted to, Natsume could've fought her back, pushed her off. But the thing was, he honestly didn't want to; he felt like he kind of deserved this.

"Oh no, you've fucked up big time," she hissed. "Don't assume for a goddam second that you're even going to so much as _touch_ me again." This was it, he could tell. This was the end. He felt like he should feel...more. He just felt empty – disappointed, maybe, but not even angry. It was like his body would eventually collapse in on itself the way houses did when the insides rotted out.

"Go on then," he prompted, when she didn't immediately deliver the ultimatum.

"'Go on' what?" she replied, her tone sharp.

"Dump me," he snapped, as he grabbed her ankle and pushed it off his face so he could talk. "It's what I deserve, isn't it? I did it, I admit it, I fucked her." He hesitated as he felt the final confession slip out, and he _knew _it was over.

"You think you're getting away that easily?" she retorted, just as angry and as if she hadn't even _heard _him, although, obviously she had.

"Oh no, oh no, you aren't getting out _that _way," she hissed as she stepped off him and took a pace back. "We break up now and we go our separate ways _forever_." It hit him hard that there was a tone of sadness in her voice. Sure, she wasn't crying, but there was just a hint of upset, and the implication that she _didn't _want things to be that way, 'separate ways forever'. It was enough to make his empty-inside regret turn into spitting hissing 'you fucking idiot' regret.

"If..." he said quietly, and then coughed as he realize just how hard she'd stamped on his chest. "If... I could go back and do it again..." Mikan scowled – _that _was rich – now he wanted to make her feel even _worse _by pointing out that he'd do it again and a-fucking-gain.

"I wouldn't." She froze for a second, and glared at him.

"What?"

"I wouldn't do it again," he said hoarsely. "It wasn't worth it."

The next thing he knew was being on his back again, because Mikan had just hurled the entire contents of her bag at him – including several very heavy textbooks on nanotechnology – and was screaming incomprehensibly.

This would also be remembered as the loudest fight of the school's history.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she screamed, what could have possibly been - but probably weren't - tears lining the bottom of her eyes. "What the _fuck _is wrong with you?!" He didn't say anything because he didn't know _what _to say: he wasn't following her.

"If it wasn't worth it why did you _do it_?" she howled, and then covered her mouth with her hand as she realized how she sounded.

"I wanted someone, _anyone_," he muttered quietly. "It didn't matter who..." Mikan knew then that she was right to turn him down – if she slept with him she'd just be another piece of _that_. "...after you turned me down."

Natsume was developing an annoying habit of saying things Mikan didn't want to hear; things that made her not want to hate him, which, right now, she kind of needed to do.

"I... thought of you," he said even quicker, and more discretely; picking up books as he rose and putting them near her empty bag. It had occurred to him that if he was going to be telling all – not that he'd _ever _wanted to in the first place, although there was something relieving about knowing he wouldn't have to stuff another skeleton in the closet – he might as well tell her _everything._ "The whole time," he clipped. "I... wanted it to be you. Pretended it was."

This point was the closest Mikan every got to crying in the whole conversation, if it could be called that. She suddenly doubted if she was right to turn him down, he looked so... _hopeless_. He'd just wanted _her_, and it was...

Shit.

It was almost her fault.

Or not even almost.

Shit. Shit.

What if she'd gone after him? What if she'd slept with him? He wouldn't have done it, any idiot could see that.

But, she reasoned with herself, it would have happened sooner or later, right? She would be away some time – that's assuming he didn't dump her right after he fucked her until he was satisfied – and he'd want sex and _she _wouldn't be around to be his professional hooker, so he'd go out and do the same.

Right?

She didn't even know, that was the problem. She _thought _that's what would happen, but when he looked like _that _it was so hard to believe it.

"I hate you," she whispered. "I hate you so goddam much." He didn't look at her, because he was worried he'd see her crying; there were only a few things he didn't want to see Mikan doing (and a lot of things he did): crying was one of them.

"You do the most horrible things..." She stopped with a hiss that could've been a sob, but hopefully wasn't, "and then you say the sort of things that make me... hate myself for being so mad with you." She finished quickly, and then turned and started to walk away – leaving all her books and belongings on the floor around him.

"Wait!" he said, jumping up and chasing her – the thing he wanted to do most was just to _hold _her, and he did his very best to as he snatched his arms around her from behind and tried to pull her to his chest.

"Get off me!" she screamed, pushing violently to get his arms off her. "Don't you fucking touch me!" He let go – his days of trying to force himself on her were about as dead as their relationship – but, _damn_, he still wanted her so much.

"Fuck..." he groaned to himself. "Look, Mikan, it doesn't mean anything... but... I'm sorry, ok? It was a total fuck up: I wasn't thinking straight. I'll... leave you alone now." He pushed her bag , stuffed hurriedly with her things, into her arms and started to walk off.

"Hey!" she shouted after him. "I still haven't broken up with you, you know." He paused, confused – he didn't see _how _they couldn't be broken up now.

"What?"

"I... look," she sighed. "I hate you a _lot _right now, and I'd love to find that girl and tear her face off, but I can't. So I'm just going to fuck off until I don't feel like screaming at you whenever you open your mouth, and when that happens, _then _we'll see, and... I'll call you." She added, "But don't expect me to talk to you until then."

"And," she snapped suddenly, her back still to him as she walked away, "this is your _one and only_ chance.... You _ever _do that to me again and I'll cut _it _off."

Somehow, he didn't doubt her.

* * *

It took longer than Natsume had hoped for Mikan not to want to kill him – he accepted that she had grounds, even he knew that there were rules in these _relationships _and fucking other people was rarely deemed 'okay' – but that didn't mean he wouldn't crack every couple of days and chase her down in a corridor.

He didn't even touch her; he'd usually just put a hand on either side of her, so she couldn't get away without touching him, and he'd try to pretend he wasn't doing something creepy like smelling her (when he usually was) while he asked if she was done hating yet.

The first time she answered by kneeing him in the crotch.

The second time she answered by slapping him.

The third time she just pushed away.

The fourth time she simply said 'no'.

What Mikan hated the most about this, was the fact that she saw what she was doing and couldn't believe what a bitch she was being to him. Somehow he made it feel like _she _was the bad guy, which made her hate herself almost as much as she hated him.

There wasn't a fifth time, because it was a semi-accidental meeting in town. Natsume was out numbing the boredom that was time he'd previously spent with her, by wandering round their old haunts, and he happened to catch sight of someone he thought looked like her in a store.

He messaged her straight away, asking if she was out, and she actually replied yes and why, and when he explained that he thought he saw her she informed him that unless he was peeking in changing rooms that was unlikely. After resisting the urge to make a joke (too soon) he tentatively 'wondered' to her if they might be able to meet up, and she declined. However, after some pestering he found out roughly where she was, and hung around there looking for her.

They finally met eyes across a river of people on the pavements, as she came out of a store, and Mikan did not look happy. She looked just as furious as always, and she quickly looked away and walked off.

Not wishing to be classified as an obsessive stalker, but not seeing what else he could do, Natsume followed her.

Into another shop.

The difference came twenty or so minutes later, when she came out of the changing rooms looking particularly angry.

"Hey," he said quietly, as she walked past him while pretending he wasn't there.

"Still no," she said defensively.

"You're making a mistake," he commented dryly, and she whirled around to lay into him.

"_I'm _making a mistake!" she shrieked. "I'm making a mistake?!" He nodded, and then as she quivered while trying to decide whether to storm off or slap him he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her top up.

Mikan squealed, thinking this to be a reversion to his old habits of apparently trying to have sex or what with her in public, and she prepared to tear him limb for limb, because 'don't touch me' really meant _don't_. She did not want to be touched by hands that had done god-knows-_what _to that girl. Before, she'd been okay with it before – everyone has a past – but flesh-and-blood unfaithfulness was different.

Cheating made the thought of being touched by him make her feel cheap and dirty. She'd spent too much of her life trying not to be taken for something cheap and dirty to let it slip now.

Even though she still couldn't let herself let him go (because she knew he'd never come back), it horrified her to be touched by him.

In reality, the difference to this situation from previous ones was the top Mikan had on _underneath_ her top, which Natsume had spotted all too easily.

"I'm barely in a position to talk about it, but if there's one thing I know, it's when to stop an Alice," he muttered darkly. "I'm sure you know the stories: _I know what it's like_. No one has seen yet, but this place has cameras, and just... _don't_."

It was a strange turnaround from the last time either of them came close to letting their Alice get the better of them - with him trying to talk her out of it - but he knew _he'd_ been her trigger, and he thought the least he could do was try to stop her getting into trouble.

"I hate you." She shuddered, and he let go of the top and she pulled it back down.

"I know." She was silent for a few moments and they stood there, in limbo, wondering just how quickly they'd managed to get their little experiment with each other into a complete fucking state. All sensibility said they should just cut and run right now.

"I miss you."

"I..." 'know' would be the obvious thing to say, but he didn't really know – he had _no idea _what went on in her head, and just hearing that she actually went as far as to miss him was a surprise ray of hope.

He wanted to be honest again, he wanted her to put the stolen top back, he wanted a _lot _of things, and he knew that unless he pushed his boundaries he wasn't going to get them.

"I... do too."

* * *

I'm such a bittersweet gal :P

Hope you enjoyed, and leave a review for the health and good future of Natsume and Mikan's relationship?


	15. XV

* * *

**XV**

"_I miss you."_

"_I... do too."_

They stood there for an awkwardly long time after these confessions, until Natsume reached out to gently squeeze Mikan's hand.

"Go back and take it off," he said quietly, referring to the top she was half-way through shoplifting, which he'd conveniently caught her in the act of doing.

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?" she retorted guiltily, and he didn't skip a beat replying. This was his element.

"Because I _know_," he said, in a kind of stupidly ambiguous way, but then he leant in to speak to her in an even more hushed tone.

"You know don't need to do it, you probably don't even _want _to do it. Look, _listen _to me," he practically begged. "If... you can't control it, then what fucking chance have _I _got?" Now Mikan suddenly remembered _who _he was.

He was Hyuga Natsume, Alice of fire.

He was responsible for several arson attacks in their area, and particularly at their school. The most famous (or indeed infamous) one was when he threw lighter-fuel soaked rags into half of the bins and set them alight, and threw the rest over the gardens.

Naturally, she had no idea why he did this, but if there hadn't been an 'anonymous' phone call reporting it to the fire department then the whole school probably would have burnt down, and it was no secret that Hyuga was very nearly sent to a detention centre for it.

He only just got away with it when the school refused to take it to court; it was an Academy matter, they insisted. Really it was because he was an otherwise excellent student, and they didn't want to lose his grades for the leagues.

Natsume was still holding her hand, and for the first time since _that night_ she didn't feel completely disgusted. She actually felt more like she wanted him to drop the hand and just give her a hug, but he never really 'did' hugs in the first place.

"Put it back," he ordered, and let go of her hand to push her back where she came from. "I am not going until you do." Mikan tried to speak, tried desperately to think of something to say; _anything _to argue with him.

In the end she just let herself be pushed back, and then did exactly as he said, putting back what she'd tried to steal – she hadn't even _wanted _it – and coming out to face his cruel-eyed verdict. He seemed to register whether she'd done it right away.

"Good," he murmured, sounding relieved in a way that felt much more important than what had really happened. Then he surprised her. He put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out of the store.

It wasn't a surprise because he'd _done _it, or even that she'd let him do it; it was because it was solely an act of support... maybe even _comfort_. He was doing it again – being _nice _just after being nasty. He was on and then off and then on again: she could barely keep up.

"I... hate you," she echoed weakly, and with a lot less assurance than the many other times she'd said it.

"You keep saying," he replied; his arm still warm and protective across her back. "Although you're losing conviction each time you say it."

"Don't get too cocky," she said spitefully. "Don't think you're forgiven yet!"

"I'm never going to be forgiven," he retorted, as if she'd said something obviously rather stupid. "What I did was unforgivable."

She raised her eyebrows, stunned by how hard he was actually being on himself – _he_ didn't even think he deserved to be forgiven.

"Why are you still here?" she asked curiously. "If you don't think you can be forgiven, then..."

"I'm not aiming for that, I'm just hoping to work around it," he explained. "To... like, get back to how it was before, in spite of my... fuck-up." He finally took his arm off her shoulders then, and let it fall to his side pensively as he rubbed his face with his other hand.

His arm didn't remain limp for long, though, because they hadn't taken more than four steps when she reached out and slipped her hand into his.

"I..." she started, "think... I'm ready now. Not to stop hating you." She glanced at him warily, as if to make sure he didn't think that _was _what she mean. "But... to _start _stopping hating you." He said nothing for a while, and they simply walked – hand in hand – down the street.

"Is that okay?" she inquired eventually, and he nodded. He didn't show any kind of facial expression, but the tell-tale sign was the tight grip he had on her hand.

When they came to a stop by a bus stop he was forced to let go of her. However, before she got away completely he managed to step in front of her, coaxing her to look him in the eyes.

She looked... _something._ He couldn't even tell, she was still unreadable – she could be upset, or angry, or even happy. He had no idea.

He wondered to himself, as he looked at this girl, who had suddenly become the most dominating feature of his life, what they actually meant to each other. They were going out, but – perhaps it was his inexperience – it seemed to be more than that.

She'd crash-landed head first into his routine; destroying it in the process, and when he stepped back and thought about it he had absolutely no idea what was actually happening. He was just playing it as it came, and he wondered then where they were really going. Where the hell would this ride end up?

"Yes?" she said curtly. He stepped in and ducked his head down, twisting his neck to press his lips softly against hers. He held it for no more than a second, and made no move to make it anything more than his mouth lightly touching hers, then stepped back again.

She was frozen; her face a little petulant, but she hadn't tried to stop him.

"I..." she said breathily, and then cut herself off. "I... wish I liked someone else..." she murmured, and Natsume's eye twitched, "...like I like you," she finished suddenly, changing the meaning of what she was saying. Just as this struck him, she grabbed his top by the collars and pulled herself up to press her mouth against his; her eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to fall. He made it so _hard_ sometime... no, _all _the time.

"Bye." She whipped around hurriedly and dashed away, leaving Natsume sighing to himself. He realized that as long as he had these feelings, he really wouldn't cheat on her again; taking them from what they'd been to what they were now felt like the most unfulfilled and destructive thing he'd ever done, and considering _what _he'd done that was quite an achievement.

* * *

When he got home, for once, his parents were in.

Well, his mother was at least. She counted for two most of the time anyway.

In their youth Natsume was led to believe that both of his parents had been artists; however, by the time they'd started having children that was a long past. Although, they did retain some of their artistic roots. His mother was a prominent art critic, and his father the curator of numerous (world-touring) galleries by important artists.

They both loved their jobs, travelled frequently (particularly his father), and made it perfectly clear to their children from day one that they were second place to 'mummy's/daddy's work'.

This didn't bother Natsume anymore – it meant they left him alone – but when they tried to be 'parenty' he usually viewed it as an unwelcome intrusion.

"You are home earlier today, son," his mother, a well-groomed business-woman in her forties, said as he walked through his front door. She was sat in the main room, back to him, but he could hear her well enough.

"Yes," he replied stonily; he didn't have any reason to explain himself to her: she never explained herself to him.

"Where were you?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because Ruka-kun's mother told me something very interesting today," his mother announced, and Natsume marvelled at the concept of his mother actually talking to another woman in a friendly way. No, he quickly decided, she probably tied Nogi-san to a chair and tortured the information out of her.

"Fine." He didn't cover up the fact that he tried to keep all conversations with her to one word or less, but today she wouldn't have it.

"She tells me that you are dating someone." Natsume paused: this was not something he ever thought of having to deal past her.

So he was silent.

"She tells me that you have a _girlfriend_, Natsume," his mother said shrilly – not threatening, but not soft or caring by any means. "Is this true?"

Natsume couldn't lie to his mother. Fact. She always knew, and if she didn't know, Aoi would probably rat him out and he'd get it twice as bad.

"Yes," he answered begrudgingly, and he could tell she was raising her eyebrows in the way he knew he did himself (much to his irritation).

"Oh," was all she had to say, and then after a little while stated, "you should invite her here for dinner."

"Why would I do that?" he spat tersely, still standing in the doorway of his house with his coat and shoes on.

"Because me and your father would like to meet her," she replied coolly. "It interests me to see what kind of a girl you are in a relationship with."

Natsume didn't look happy. "You wouldn't like her," he said dryly. Of _course _she wouldn't.

"Well, won't I be the judge of that?" The shifting sound of papers let him know that she was talking to him while reading something – probably business stuff – and he was not surprised in any way that she wouldn't give her full attention to him.

"Your father is home during the evenings this weekend," she remarked, as he heard the scratch of a Biro on paper, "and I can make arrangements to be free also. Invite your..." she paused slightly before she said it, as if she was considering the word, "...girlfriend, over, Natsume. I want to be introduced. _And,_ before you make an excuse, I would be very irritated to have changed my plans and for her not to be present."

Natsume argued with her for almost twenty minutes, trying to pass off any reason he could think of to explain why Mikan couldn't come over – and furthermore, _why_ they would bother to take an interest in his love life when they took none at all about everything else. She debated this point fiercely, and in the end he lost – as usual – and had to commit to Mikan coming over for 'a nice family meal', or, as his mother had threatened, she would contact her herself and arrange it without him.

* * *

"Hey," Natsume called as he chased Mikan down in a hallway the next day at school. "Have you got a minute?"

It was now public knowledge that although Natsume _had_ cheated on Mikan, she hadn't broken up with him, but she definitely wasn't _acting _like his girlfriend at all, so they were probably headed for ruin. Once again, they had become the hottest talking point for people with nothing better to do.

"I... suppose," she replied reservedly, and crossed her arms to make sure he didn't try anything too 'boyfriendy' with her. In spite of her little moment yesterday, she was still not entirely comfortable with him again. That would simply take time.

"This is the most retarded thing I'm ever going to have to ask you to do," he forewarned, and she became both curious and suspicious, "but... will you have dinner at my house this weekend?"

He was right, it _was _a weird thing for him to say, and her facial expression reflected as much.

"I know," he sighed. "But my mother decided it. She doesn't take no for an answer. She... 'wants to be introduced'." Mikan's glanced became even more wary.

"Normally she doesn't give a damn about me or Aoi," he said sourly, "but for some reason she's taken it into her head that as parents her and my father ought meet every girl I date."

"I'm the _only _girl you've dated," Mikan reminded him, "ever."

"And?" He shrugged. "That's not the point. They're just being weird. I don't get a say in it, and they've said you have to have dinner with them." He glanced at her, and thankfully she didn't look _too_ pissed off. "Do you mind?"

Mikan rolled her eyes, and after a few moments made a small shrugging gesture. "I guess not. All of your family will be there?"

"Just them and my sister."

"Was it Aoi, you said?"

"Yes."

Mikan looked more interested now; she was curious as to what a screw-up like Natsume's family might be like – if they were all demonic sadists who brought him up without love or something, or what his poor terrorised sibling might be like.

She would find out that Saturday, when she met him at the station nearest to his house. She was dressed in what he requested as 'toned down, ok?', and she had interpreted as jeans and a top that didn't show off too much of her chest.

He didn't say anything about what she was wearing, which she assumed meant 'ok', and as they walked – arms touching, but nothing more – he told her a little about his family, to prepare the ground, or so to speak.

"Uh, so in my house, right? For my parents it always went like this; their work, each other, their work again, and then _us_."

"Us?" Mikan inquired.

"Me and Aoi," he answered coolly, and Mikan could feel the 'don't mess' barriers springing up all around the conversation already. "My dad is okay, I guess, but he's travelling a lot. It's mom's show really. So... if she acts scary, just, like, tune it out or whatever. I do. She's... always like that." He was quiet for a while, and it became clear that he was thinking when he said, "I guess she was always a bit disappointed about the Alice..."

Mikan was aware that they had moved on from 'don't mess' barriers to 'don't mess' giant spiked walls with hot tar '_Alices'_ being poured down on top of her, and Natsume's slowly closing up body suggested as much. There were far too many students in the Dangerous class who had bad problems with their parents accepting their Alices. Mikan luckily had the understanding of her mother – who, of course, had exactly the same thing and could empathise

"They thought Aoi had it _really _bad when she was little... when she–... but then, they ran tests and saw a counsillor, who said she was just copying _me_. That was obviously when I got shipped to the Academy. _She_ got away without having two kids with Alices, but she kinda blamed me for being a bad influence in the first place." He shrugged. "I'm a bad influence on most people," he said, with half a smug and half a disappointed smirk.

"Ooh, check out Mr. Bad Boy," Mikan quipped sarcastically, and before she knew what was what he had – somewhat appropriately – pushed up against a tree; his mouth poised just above hers.

"You really feel like fucking with me?" he threatened angrily; to him this was clearly not a joking matter. However, in the cold night, with his body so warm against hers, Mikan's sensibility snapped for a brief moment and she simply crushed her mouth into his.

Natsume's shortening fuse was put out the instant their lips touched, and as he slipped into it he merely started to curse the fact that his house – now so very close – was full of family members, who naturally ruined the possibility of getting any time alone with her.

This was also the deepest kiss she had permitted since _then_, and that was a very good sign. Even if she did pull herself away the next second and cry, "I didn't mean to do that!" like she had no control over her actions. He only smirked, and slipped his arm around her waist, to which she didn't object.

As they walked the last stretch, and he ranted about how stupid this whole dinner-situation was in the first place, he silently thanked Mikan for being so... _allowing_, tonight.

He didn't like to think of it that way, but he needed that assurance from her. This was not going to be an easy ordeal.

* * *

Leave a review please and you know the rest :D I couldn't let Mikan stay mad at him _too _long in writing-terms. In 'fic' terms I'd call it two weeks and a bit, just in case you were wondering. (making Mikan and Natsume's relationship count about 6-going-on 7 weeks long so far).


	16. XVI

Chaptered and presented :D

Now, as for Natsume's family, I decided that I wanted him to have both parents, and as very little is known about them both I more or less took a free rein with 'em. Aoi I'm going to try to keep IC, but she's 12 here so there's a bit of little-sister malice for funsies.

Natsume's mom is going to be my biggest liberty, but I think it's important for N's character to have parents of a certain kind. Plus it's important for further plot.

Less of me ranting, more of you reading. Have fun.

(It's been a while since I did this: I own nothing. The characters and many of the plot themes are property of the mangaka.)

* * *

Mikan thought that this night would be fun. Meeting Natsume's family; she was curious and excited.

Being invited to 'be introduced' gave her a confidence boost as well, because it meant that Natsume was taking her seriously as a girlfriend. If he was bringing her home to his family, perhaps he wasn't going to abandon her as soon as he'd slept with her. She wasn't a total idiot, she had realized ( especially in the time she spent thinking about 'them' when they weren't speaking) that the whole relationship could be an overblown plan to get her into bed, which was why she was being even more cautious.

However, this was a good sign, right? Although, he also acted like he really didn't want to be 'introducing' her, and that wasn't the best sign. So it was kind of at an even.

They paused outside the door of his – fairly comfortable and large – house, and he surprised her with a kiss.

"What was that for?" she asked suspiciously, as she wiped her mouth dry with the back of her hand.

"Uh, I'dunno," he mumbled; really, he had been stealing a last-minute piece of affection from her – he needed to remind himself that no matter what his parents made of Mikan, _he _liked her, and that was all that really mattered. He was _less_ than optimistic about his parents' opinions of her.

Mikan began to realize why Natsume when they opened the door to a jaded cry of, "About time, Natsume. You best not be alone." and she swore she saw him wince.

To make things worse Natsume mother, father (or so she could assume) and his younger sister were already sitting down to eat, and made it clear they had been waiting for the two of them.

"Ah, you must be Mikan-chan," Natsume's father, an artistic-looking man with a warm smile, said kindly. "It's good to meet you."

"At last," his mother added slyly, and gave Natsume a 'you know what I mean' look.

Deciding to play the oblivious 'rising above it' card, Mikan pulled Natsume towards the table by his forearm and sat down.

"It is an honor to meet you all," she recited formally, and she heard a little giggle from the direction of Natsume's sister.

"Oh please, Mikan-chan," his father said. "There is no need to be so formal. We are not going to eat you."

"..._yet," _hissed Aoi, and when Mikan glanced at her in peril she promptly burst out laughing.

"You are Aoi-chan, perhaps?" Mikan asked the girl – about twelve, dark hair like her parents and sibling – and she nodded.

"How did you know that?" she inquired with a look of intrigue.

"Natsume's talked about you," she replied, and Aoi looked surprised.

"You did, Oni-chan?" she said to Natsume playfully, and he shrugged.

"I had to ask him, though," Mikan remarked with a smile. "He never talks about his family."

"Typical," Aoi giggled, and Mikan shared another smile with her. Aoi seemed quite nice, and Mikan felt a lot more confidant that she'd be able to get on with the Hyuuga family.

"Ashamed of us, perhaps?" his mother stated icily, and Mikan felt the moment die. Before Natsume could argue, not that he looked in a mind to, she continued. "You are at... _school _with my son?" she asked, and Mikan gave a nervous nod. Knowing what Natsume had said about his mother's attitude toward his Alice, she had the sensation that she didn't even want to say the name 'Alice Academy'.

"Yes, I am," she mumbled quietly, her eyes sinking downward fast.

"I expect it's nothing big," his father said jovially, but Mikan couldn't help but notice he too didn't use the word 'Alice'. "You seem perfectly _normal_, right Mikan-chan." Either the seat was getting bigger or Mikan was getting smaller.

"Uh... well," she said awkwardly, wondering how to answer without screwing things up for herself.

"Yes. Perfectly normal," Natsume interrupted, stunning Mikan. He was protecting her?

"Exellent," his mother said just a little _too _keenly. "Well, do you do well?"

"Um?" Mikan sounded confused.

"Do you get good grades in 'school'," she questioned irately, as if it should have been clear earlier.

"I'm..."

"She's..." Natsume interjected, but Mikan cut him off. She wasn't going to have him save her from every awkward question, or lie about who she was to please them. They should be able to judge her for whatever she was and if they had a problem with it she'd deal with it face to face.

"I'm not very smart," she said confidantly. Natsume's mother's eyebrows creased together.

"Is that so?" she said incredulously. "Do you not want to get into a good university?"

"If I could," Mikan replied. "But I can't. I study and see tutors just to keep my grades average. I have to work a job as well," she finished, as if it was an excuse, which she knew it wasn't really.

"Oh," his mother said knowingly, and looked at her husband.

"What do your parents do?" he inquired, changing the topic. He was a lot less scary than his wife, but Mikan felt no less like she was being tried for some kind of son-defiling crime.

"My mother..." Ran part time jobs varying from shop attendant to hostess, but never entered a real profession. "...is a housewife." There was a sound that could have been approval or dismissal from Natsume's own career-driven mother.

"Your father then?" Natsume's own father probed.

"He's... dead," she answered. "He has been for a long time." Natsume's mother raised her eyebrows in a movement that was surprisingly like what Natsume did, and Mikan had to resist a grin.

"How are you supported?" his mother demanded, both of them knowing the Academy had fees and that a family needed income.

"My mother's... second husband," Mikan blurted uncomfortably, feeling the 'she's from _that _kind of family' vibe hanging low around the room. It was almost as if there was no food there, so insignificant it was to the real purpose of the evening.

"I like your top, Mikan-chan," Aoi piped up suddenly, bright and lifting the mood a little. "It's so cute."

"Thank you, Aoi-chan," Mikan said cheerfully, reflecting Aoi's good intentions perfectly. "I got it from..." She realized all too late that this particular item was bought on a five-finger discount; namely, shoplifted.

"Where?" Aoi probed. "You broke off suddenly."

"From a market," Mikan rushed, trying not to let her face flush.

Then, as she took the narrowest hit yet, she felt a light and warm pressure on her knee. Natsume's hand. He was applying just enough for her to know he wasn't being completely soppy and comforting, but it wasn't lewd enough not to offer some small 'it's okay' message to her; calming her down immensely.

"Well, Mikan-chan," Natsume's father said after a while finally spent eating. "What are your hobbies?"

"Hobbies?"

"What do you like to do? Your 'specialist subjects'," he explained. "I'm sure there are some things you are good at."

"I..." she fumbled. What _was _she good at? "Well... I..."

"I bet Mikan-chan's hobby is fashion," Aoi suggested, with just a tiny hint there of dropping in to save her embarrassment. "Do you have a lot of clothes?"

"Yes," Mikan told Aoi, an apparent ally in what was quickly dividing teams. "My mom gave me lots of her old clothes, and I have a lot of my own things." She thought for a second. "Yes, I do like fashion; I really enjoy putting together outfits and customising clothes and things."

"So you are looking for a career in fashion design?" Natsume's mother swooped in like a hawk.

"Well... not really," Mikan confessed. "I'm not really... creative enough for something like that." If Natsume's mother had hit her, it probably wouldn't feel any worse than Mikan felt now, and the hand on her knee clenched tight, as if he were holding back on something.

"You said you wanted to be introduced," Natsume snapped suddenly, apparently failing to keep from what he'd been trying to not say. "Not to interrogate her." He glared across the table, particularly at his mother.

"I wanted to know what kind of girl that _dress _in the back of your wardrobe was for," she retorted acidly. "So I am liable to ask your _girlfriend _anything I want to, Natsume," she added, but Mikan's mind was already thinking of something else.

"A dress?" she echoed curiously, and Aoi's face – which had been thoughtful – suddenly broke out in a big grin.

"You mean that stripy one he has hidden right at the back?" she teased. "Normally boys have naughty pictures, oni-chan. I wonder what _you _get up to." Natsume glared at his sister, but it was a friendly glare – if there was such a thing. Mikan got the feeling that although Natsume and Aoi bickered and teased each other, they didn't really have all that bad a relationship.

However, the 'stripy dress' was another matter. Surely it wasn't _that_...

"What kind of stripes, Aoi-chan?" Mikan asked her.

"Pinstripes," her mother answered. "The cleaner tells me it has been there for some time."

"You'll have to excuse me for a minute, sorry!" Mikan cried as she backed away from the table (they had all finished eating more or less) and ran in the direction of the stairs.

"Which room is his?" she directly asked Aoi as she passed her.

"Second on the left!" the cute girl replied with a mischievous grin, and before Natsume could jump up himself and give chase Mikan was tearing up the stairs, down the corridors and into the room she hoped was his.

It was bare, and looked un-lived in, but the bed was unmade and she saw a few things of his lying around, so she assumed it must be his. She also heard his footsteps approaching behind hers, and hurriedly ripped open the wardrobe and pushed through right to the back.

She closed her hand around the hanger at the very back, and pulled it out into the light just as Natsume got to the doorway.

It was _that _dress. The one from the store all that time ago. From their _first date_.

"When did you buy this?" she asked emptily, knowing he was there to hear her.

"I didn't go back," he stated, and her eyes widened in even more surprise.

"Why did you buy this?" she demanded; her voice still devoid of any emotion as she tried to work out what she _was _feeling.

"I don't know." She heard him crossing the floor, coming closer to her. "I really don't know."She felt his hand on her hip, and she turned just as he span her, and she caught him mid-whirl; their mouths crashing together manically as he bumped her back against the wardrobe door, making it slam shut.

She didn't even know _why _she was kissing him so hard – she'd dropped the dress as she did – or why the current of desire, _sexual_ desire, was deciding to run so hot in her veins right now. Why had this suddenly become different, she wondered as he bit her lip worked his hands underneath her top.

She already remember too clearly where the bed was, and when he pulled her off the wall and began to stagger towards it she didn't object. She_ couldn't _object, her body wouldn't let her.

It was fumbled and rushed, but raw and madly compelling; when he pushed her down on the bed and pulled off her top, she only reached her tongue further into his mouth and dragged her (comparatively) cold hands across his own shoulders and back.

When her 'modest' top was thrown aside, leaving her in her bra, she made sure to even the balance by digging her hands underneath his thin jumper and peeling it off. She'd never said that she _only _liked guys with lots of muscles, but her taste in them was always tailored that way. Tsubasa was certainly very fit, with an impressive body.

But this was _not_ Natsume. He was strong for his build, but that was wiry and thin, so it didn't amount to much: he was not her normal tastes in aesthetics. However, this didn't seem to matter as she ripped off his top and wrapped her arms around bare skin. She was just _attracted _to him, and she couldn't even work out why: it was just _there_.

He moaned into her mouth when she moved underneath him, making just a tiny bit of room for him between her legs while she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth harder onto hers. She thought she'd wanted him before, but compared to _this _that was nothing. Now every inch of her body screamed for contact; more, and harder, until she was filled to the point of bursting and physically couldn't take anymore.

She remembered, as one of his hands cupped a breast roughly, what she'd told herself would happen if she let _this _happen. What she _knew _would happen. He'd leave – lust slaked – just like everyone did. Mikan hated being alone, but she hated being left more. The idea of people leaving not on her terms fed her insecurities, and it was always when she was alone that she became sad.

With Natsume here, now, it was so good, so _not _alone that she could almost fool herself into just feeling it without thinking, but the idea of it all pissing off to find someone else to do _exactly the same things to _made her want to cry.

She needed to stop, soon. Before it went too far.

The only problem was that she _couldn't_. Even if her brain had every reason in the world to stop making out with him and allowing him to pop open the buttons on her jeans, she simply couldn't do it.

Which probably made it lucky, at least from Mikan's point of view, that Aoi ran into the room _through the open door_ and promptly screamed.

"Ahhh!" she screeched, as she clapped eyes on the heaving and tangled pile of her brother and his girlfriend on the bed; both of them evidently without tops. "What the hell, bro!" It took a little longer than it should for Natsume to come to terms with what was happening, and when he did there was a mad scramble for Mikan to cover herself, which ended up in Natsume putting _his _top on her.

If the situation hadn't been what it what he might have remarked that it looked pretty hot on her. Although that could just be because it was _his, _and making him ego-trip on his girlfriend in his clothes_._

"That is not cool! You didn't even close the door!" Aoi accused; more grossed-out pre-teen than hateful sister thankfully.

"Uh," Natsume grunted. He was now bare-chested - he certainly wasn't going to put on Mikan's top, and she was wearing his - which made him look around quickly for _something _to look less like he'd been about to fuck his girlfriend with his parents downstairs and the doors open.

Which, of course, he had.

He probably would have gotten away with it, if it weren't for that meddling kid.

"What were you two _doing_?" Aoi said critically, and Mikan inconspicuously retrieved her discarded clothing as she remembered the trigger to it all: that damned dress. When? How? _Why?_

"Uh... we were just hugging, Aoi-chan," Mikan said a little _too _assuredly.

"Why did you take off your top, then?" she asked suspiciously. She'd _heard _about this kind of thing from her friend at school...

"Because...!" Mikan floundered.

"Because she got too warm," Natsume suggested, looking directly at his sister as if to convey something very important. "You know how my, uh, Alice is."

"Ohhh," Aoi gasped wisely, realizing (or at least thinking she was) how things were, and her face relaxing into a fun smile. "He's like a radiator, isn't he Mikan-chan?"

"Um... yes," Mikan mumbled, her face now giving Natsume's body a run for its money in the 'producing heat' function. "He just gave me a wonderful gift, and... I hugged him to say thank you... and..."

"Hey!" Natsume interrupted grumpily – coitus interruptus was not his finest moment. "Who said it was yours?"

"What will you do with it?" she retorted sharply. "You bought it _for me_, didn't you?"

"I bought it when I was _with _you," he corrected.

"Because I'd been wearing it! Because it looked good on me! Because I couldn't afford it! It is for me!" Mikan insisted in shrieks and shouts.

"Maybe it is," Natsume retorted darkly. "But you're assuming things before they're even done. I wasn't even going to give it to you yet."

"Well..." she said angrily (at least he _was _going to give it to her, and not keep it secretly like some kind of stalker), and then she realized – he'd bought the dress she'd (and he'd) loved right on their first date, and it wasn't cheap. That had to mean something didn't it? Why were they even fighting?

"Thank you," she rushed, leaping forwards and throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her lips against his and kissing him with genuine affection.

"Ewwww," Aoi squealed from the doorway, but not without a smile. "Grosssss." Mikan felt Natsume smiling against her mouth, and she knew for sure that he actually liked his little sister - more than he let on.

"You two gross-tards better get downstairs, mom and dad will get annoyed," she warned Mikan and Natsume, and then turned around and skipped away to her own room.

When they had shifted tops – so it appeared as if no one had been about to have sex – and returned downstairs, Natsume's mother was far from content.

"If you're quite done being rude, Mikan-chan, I think it's about time for you to go. _Natsume_ will be speaking to me for some time," she said colder than the Antarctic on a _particularly _icy day, and Mikan very nealy shivered.

"Go. Save youself," Natsume leant over and whispered in her ear, and oddly enough he sounded amused – like he thought it was a joke.

"I'm very sorry Hyuuga-san," she said apologetically, bowing quickly. "I'd just like to say that... well, I like your son very much, and... goodbye." She bowed again and turned to leave. However Natsume caught her before she could go, craving her after she twisted his emotions so hard with that small confession, and pulled her into a kiss, to hell if it was in front of his parents, it was only lip-to-lip.

"Bye," he murmured, as her cheeks flushed bright red, which coaxed a smile onto his face.

"See you soon," she whispered under her breath, and then louder, and to the whole room, said, "I can see myself out."

With that, she was gone. Outside. _Safe_.

She was unsure as to whether this classed as a good or bad night, or a success or a failure, or a close escape or a last-minute save.

Whatever the final outcomes were, she sure felt good enough right now. That would do.

* * *

Yes... I used a line from scooby-doo in my fic. I'm so five :P

Leave a review please, etc, etc, they got _waaaay _close to doing it, and that counts for a lot, right?

My adoring thanks to everyone reading and reviewing, you all make me feel like it's worth writing this thing :D


	17. XVII

Updated! This was a fun chapter to write, another of those DII (does it itself) ones :D Plus the start was all worked out because it was actually the end of the last chapter. Heh.

Enjoy. (Disclaimer disclaims I don't own anything).

* * *

"It is _absolutely _out of the question," she stated irresolutely; the tongue of Natsume's mother clicked irately between sentences, as she voiced her disapproval of his choice in girlfriend. "I do not like her at all."

"You don't need to like her," Natsume hissed sourly. _"I_ do."

"And you do, son?" his father inquired.

"Of course," he snapped. "Isn't that obvious?"

"I don't know, you tell us," his father said carefully, as if the fact that Natsume had just kissed Mikan in full view of them both wasn't enough.

"Well I'd rather be out there with her than in here," he said moodily, and then realizing he was-as-a-matter-of-fact leaving Mikan to travel home alone turned around – he could follow what he'd just said up and also see her home. It wasn't even that he was concerned about her safety any more, it was just a habit.

"Don't even think about it," his mother sniped. "Do not leave this house. You cannot see it now, but she is not right for you, Natsume. As your parents we can tell."

"What do you know?" he yelled. "You don't know a thing about me or her! What grounds have you got to say she's not right for me?" It was probably a typical teenage thing to do, but arguing with his parents about why he should break up with Mikan only made him even more determined to stay with her. For how long? He couldn't say.

Which was a better start than most got.

"We are your parents!" his father bellowed sternly. "We know what's good for you!"

"Barely my parents!" he snapped. "You can't be gone all the time and then come back and expect to be 'mom' and 'dad' like that, you can't get involved when you usually don't give a shit. You can't rule my life!" he shouted, and then realizing how pathetic and typical he sounded then calmed himself down.

"I am eighteen," he said coolly. "You cannot tell me who I can and can't go out with. Legally you can't make me do a thing. I'm an adult."

"Barely," his mother scoffed with a smirk, throwing his own words back at him contemptuously. "You still live under our roof, and you'll obey our rules."

Natsume sensed the battle was over. It was time give up. They could win the argument, but they couldn't make him break up with her, so really they were still losing.

"Whatever," he muttered, and walked into the house – heading to his room.

"Don't walk away from us," his mother threatened unsuccessfully, and Natsume stormed silently up to his room; this time remembering to close the door.

He glared at his bed as if it were the thing's fault. He had been _so _close to the thing he wanted most in the world, and it was snatched away from him.

Mikan would have gone the whole way, he could tell, he could _sense _it, and although they didn't quite make it, at least that meant she would again. Simply the _thought_ of that kept him from losing his mind, but to aid the process he called her.

"Okay, so you said 'scary'," was the first thing Mikan said when she picked up the call. "You didn't say _insane_."

"It was implied. Did you hear any of that?" he asked, meaning the argument that happened when she was only steps out of the door.

"I think the end of the _street _heard that, Natsume."

"I'm sorry they're... _them_. And that you have to go home alone too."

"It's fine, I do it all the time," she laughed carelessly, and Natsume scowled on the other end of the phone. He didn't _like _to think of her doing things without him, particularly things where she wandered around the city on her own.

"I take it we're still going out, then?" she added cheerfully, and he wondered why she was in such a great mood – was it something he did?

"Yes," he replied quicker than quick, and then after a pause said, "I wish I was with you. This place is hell." Mikan wondered if Natsume had realized she lived alone yet or not. She'd purposely been very hazy about her living arrangements; if he knew she had a constantly free house he'd just want to use the place to have sex all the time, and she didn't want to fuck things up even more by making a load of memories in her house that would go bad after he left.

"Mine's not much better," she replied with a sigh, thinking about how godawfully alone she'd be.

"What if... I were there?" he suggested coolly.

"I don't know," she said 'innocently'. "Why would that make it any better?"

"Because I'd drag you right into the middle of the floor and hold you down, good and firm so you couldn't fight me off," he said suggestively. "That would make things interesting."

"Ohh," she responded warmly. "_That's_ what you're thinking of. How unusual," she said sarcastically.

"Well for saying that, I'd slowly start taking off whatever you're wearing right now, piece by piece," he described, squeezing his teeth over the top of his tongue as he heard her deepening breaths.

"Every piece of lip you give me, I'd take something off. Including that bra you're wearing... what was it, strawberry print?" He vaguely recalled the pattern of the one he'd been quite well acquainted with not too long ago, in this very room, but to be fair the print wasn't what he was most concerned with at the time.

"What if I didn't want to be topped by you, huh?" she posed flirtatiously.

"Another thing off," he commanded. "You don't get a choice. I _always _top." He _did _always top, apart from a few times with Yuri all those years ago, Natsume had never let a girl take control in bed; that defeated the whole point of why they slept with them.

"Overbearing, aren't you?" she taunted.

"And that's another one," he retorted. "You're running out of clothes fast."

"Poor me," she simpered. "What will I do?"

"I could find _uses_ for you," he quipped, and without realizing, frightened the shit out of Mikan.

"What am I supposed to be, your personal hooker, huh?" she snapped suddenly. "I'd like to think you see me as a bit more than a piece of ass for your 'use', Natsume." He couldn't understand why she'd flipped. He _thought _they were just playing around with some dirty talk, but evidently that was not the case. She said _he _had mood swings.

"I didn't mean..."

"You think I don't know about you? How you think about girls?" she yelled, trying to hold back the way she was feeling – she was getting so close again, and he was just _proving _she was right. He'd be gone before you could say 'goodbye'.

"What are you talking about?" he snapped. "I don't get a word of this."

"You _do_ us and then leave us," she growled. "I'm not stupid, I've talked to all your 'hits'. You don't stick around long, do you?"

"What? Other girls I've..." He broke off. _No_, she couldn't think...

"Why the fuck are you laughing, dickhead!" Mikan shrieked.

"You actually think I'd do the same with you?" he scoffed. "I knew most girls were insecure, but seriously–"

"Don't treat it so casually!" she insisted. "You asked me out because you wanted to get with me, didn't you? What's changed since then?" He was a little surprised that she seemed to know his primary motivations back then, and he asked himself what _had _changed. Why had his pathetic 'quest' to sleep with her turned into something _real_, something he valued more than any number of girls or petty points of revenge?

"...Everything," he eventually replied. "Everything has."

"Well..." she said feebly, her breath loud down the phone, "what's that even supposed to mean?"

"This is... hard to do on the phone," he murmured. "Can you come around again tomorrow? _They'll _both be out, and we can sort out whatever weird shit you've been thinking to yourself." The conversation drew to an artificial close, but he tried to make sure she knew he wasn't avoiding the question; he just wanted to be there in person.

"Well, okay," she relented quietly. "Time?"

"Any time, I'm not going out," he replied. "Look... if you were the same as other girls I wouldn't still be here. I'm..." He hesitated, hating that he sounded like such a played fool – but it seemed she was just as bad. "I'm pretty into you, okay? See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, okay then.... Bye, Natsume," she said, and then he hung up. What was even going on? She'd lost track of it all, sometime during that crowded train ride when they'd first kissed for real.

He said once she was afraid he'd sweep her away, and even though she denied it, it seemed that it had happened all the same.

This night was the first time Mikan had lain in bed and honestly _wished _Natsume was there with her, even if it was just to explain why she wasn't the same as anyone else he'd done, but putting up a bigger fight. She'd _wondered_, of course, what it might be like to share a bed with him before – she'd only spent an entire night with someone twice in her life; once she didn't even have sex with the guy, but the other was with Narumi, and that made up for the first.

* * *

So she was early, well early-ish, to his place the next day. Not so early as to make her look too eager, but early enough for neither of them to spend time waiting for the other one.

She called him from the station – she couldn't remember where his house was after going there just once – and he wandered down to get her.

"Hey, dense girl," he greeted her, and the look she gave him was less than fond.

"I don't know what you seem to find so amusing," she snarled. "You know as well as I do that you don't exactly fit the 'committed boyfriend' standard." He shrugged.

"Maybe," he remarked, and took her chin in his hand, tilting her head from side to side carefully. "Hn, but perhaps you are as stupid as you look, eh?" She swung a hand out to slap him, and he caught it with a tiny smirk. He pulled his hand forward and dragged her mouth onto his, and then started to push her in the direction of his house after the kiss had ended.

"So?" she said expectantly.

"What?" he replied.

"You made me come over today – to take time out of _my _day – because 'you couldn't do something over the phone'," she reminded him irately.

"Oh, that was _that_," he said with a sideways glance, referring to the kiss.

"What?! Oh great," she groaned. "I thought you were going to _say _something."

"I might," he remarked, pushing up a sleeve of his jacket (worn over a tank-top) and then running his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right time." Mikan sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get anything out of him until _he _felt like not being vague.

"Hey, you're wearing an earring," she commented, as she caught sight of a shiny silver stud when he messed with his hair.

"What?" He processed what she said just after he replied. "Uh, yeah, so?"

"Is it a girl's earring?"

"It's a stud."

"And that's not girly?" she teased sarcastically.

"No," he stated firmly, and she laughed.

"It's a _bit _girly."

"Nope." He simply refused to accept her teasing, which, in turn, made it even more fun.

"Is it your little sister's?"

"_No_," he snapped, and Mikan giggled.

"Do you have one in the other ear?" She leant around him and tried to look – she found it a little hard to believe she'd never noticed earrings before, although she was aware of his small jewellery penchant; demonstrated by the limited number of rings and chains he wore occasionally.

At least he'd given up on the silly glasses thing; she hadn't seen him in them for a week or two now, and everyone else seemed to believe he'd just changed to contacts.

Perhaps he didn't normally have earrings in,or maybe it was just because she usually only had her hands in the back of his hair, and she really _hadn't _noticed until now.

He turned around, pushing back his hair, and tugged his other ear by the cartilage, highlighting a large gold cuff that ran right down the edge of his ear.

"Whoa, that's a big one," she gasped. "You don't wear that at school, do you?"

"Sometimes. If I forget to take it off. Haven't you ever noticed it?" he grunted.

"Well, I don't really look at your ears all the time, do I?" she laughed. "It's a bit over the top, isn't it?" He shrugged again, and before he realized it she'd leapt onto his shoulder, draping herself along his arm and nearly bowling both of them over.

"Why're you so quiet?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and taking a better look at the ear closest to her: it was pretty average as far as ears went. "What did you want to say to me?" she inquired again, as her feet dragged along the pavement. "You said 'everything changed', what changed, huh? How am I supposed to know you haven't been playing me this whole time just to get me to sleep with you?"

"How am I supposed to know you haven't been pretending to go out with me so you and all your friends can laugh about how you're leading me on?" he snapped venomously, shaking her off him.

"What? Why would I do that?" she said; hurt and confused.

"I don't know, maybe for the same reasons I'd spend nearly two months with you just so I could sleep with you," he retorted, and as they reached his house he stormed up to the door and opened it, but she remained on the path outside.

"All you've done to girls your entire life is laying and leaving!" she protested. "What am I _supposed_ to think?" Leaving the door open, Natsume strode up the path and grabbed her by the wrist, and then pulled her back down it into his house, closing the door behind them.

"You are the only girlfriend I've had. Ever," he hissed as he pressed her close to the wall inside. "You are the second one I've ever known as a person, you are the only one I actually _liked _of those two. You are _different._"

"Two?" Mikan echoed. "Who else?"

"What does it matter?" he retorted.

"Because I want to know!" she snapped.

"Fine," he huffed; it wasn't like it was a big deal anyway. "My... _first_. She was hired to tutor me two years ago: we didn't study much." He saw Mikan roll her eyes. "But I knew her more than I knew of most others... not that I liked it. She was stupid, self-obsessed, melodramatic... and a _slut_." Mikan struggled to push him away and glared daggers.

"She _was_," he insisted as he pushed her back against the wall. "She had a boyfriend and she fucked me; I was _sixteen_. She was nineteen. Before you ask I wasn't the one who started it either. She just had poor morals and no self-respect."

"Nice to know what I'm classed with," Mikan muttered, and then in a second found her face caught tightly and turned upwards to look at him.

"I do not class you with her, or anyone else," he said calmly. "Get it _into_ your head."

"Then _let go of me!_" she snapped suddenly. "I don't need holding down like an animal!" Realizing she had a point, and that he was being a bit over-the-top on the physical restraint, Natsume stepped back and released her.

"I'm just trying to get it into your dense head: I _like _you," he said emphatically. "_Hell, _I fancy you more than anyone I've ever met. It's about the only thing that keeps me from losing the plot when you..." He was cut off when she lurched towards him and covered his mouth with hers, in a rushed 'you-said-a-nice-thing' spur of the moment kiss, but she broke away with a less than content smile.

"How can I know you really mean it?" she asked weakly, and with a heavy sigh he took her head in his hands, leaning her forehead against his tenderly.

"You just have to trust me," he explained simply. "Trust that I mean it." She blinked slowly and stared at him; his hands were so warm against her cheeks.

"I do," she said. "It's just sometimes... I think that maybe you're only after one thing, and when you've had it you'll move on to someone else. "Hey!" she snapped irately when he chuckled. "Don't laugh at me!"

"You dense girl," he laughed, dropping his arms and giving her a quick squeeze of reassurance. "Just... come inside for a while; we'll hang out and do whatever you want until you _get it._"

"What if it's just watching TV?" she posed a little more brightly.

"All right then," he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders that suggested that, although there were other things he might like to do more, watching TV would suffice for now. "Is that seriously what you want?" Mikan nodded. "Fine. But you'll have to fight Aoi for the remote."

"Aoi-chan is here?"

"Where else would she be? She _lives _here," he said sardonically, leading Mikan into the living room, where they sat together, Mikan curling up like a big cat, on a squishy western-style sofa and watched tweeny dramas of Aoi's choosing.

Aoi had insisted that if she was going to put up with Natsume and Mikan doing gross things, like _cuddling_ and _kissing_, in front of her, then she would have complete control of what they watched.

* * *

"Momoko what are you _doing?!_" Mikan screamed at the TV a little later. "He _loves _you! He's just pretending to have amnesia because your grandmother's evil twin will cut the inheritance if he marries you because of what your father did to her son. No! Don't run crying to _him!_ He's secretly in cahoots with the old lady to split the stolen money from the railway, and he'll try to seduce you so he can... _no! What are you sayi–!"_

"That's it," Natsume hissed as he clapped his hand firmly over Mikan's mouth. "You are being _way_ too loud and annoying. Be quiet or we won't watch TV anymore."

"Fine," she whined. "I was just trying to tell her.."

"She's an actress. An actress on TV. She couldn't hear you even if she tried," he said coldly, and on the other side of the room Aoi giggled.

"I thought you said you didn't watch this show, Mikan-chan," Aoi remarked, and after a bit of light wrestling Mikan removed Natsume's hand from her mouth to answer her.

"I don't, Aoi-chan, but you told me what happened and I got a little bit... involved," she said bashfully. Her back was now against one arm of the sofa, and she had her legs curled over Natsume's lap; she could tuck her head in the crook of his neck, and he had a hand resting lightly curled around her ankles to keep her close to him.

"You'd get involved in anything," he muttered darkly, and pulled her a little more comfortably against him. "You got involved with _me_."

"Yeah," Aoi chipped in sarcastically. "Way to go on _that_ one. He's really awful, isn't he?"

"Aaw, he's not so bad," Mikan replied jollily, slipping one of her cold hands underneath his top to warm against his stomach. "Better than a hot-water bottle."

"I can't believe this is what I amounted to," he lamented, more to himself than anyone else. "'Better than a hot-water bottle.'"

Mikan turned up her face and kissed his jaw fondly. "I'm sorry," she said sweetly. "I like you for other things too."

"Whatever," he grunted. "Aoi won't be able to stick around for the end of _this_ show, it's rated adult." He gave Mikan a heated look; _yes_, she knew what he meant. TV was _not _going to be the main attraction of today's entertainment.

* * *

Yes, I looked at pictures of our boy on dev/art and remembered how awesome his earrings are. Although he's only wearing the cuff from the manga/anime currently.

Does Natsume seem out of character at the end? As he thaws I worry if he's losing himself, but manga-Natsume can be quite sweet when he wants to... so I'm hoping it's okay.

Leave a review please. I get depressed when I see stories with half the number of chapters as this and double the reviews, and Blue-Niagra has to talk me out of it :P


	18. XVIII

Here you are, it's what you've all been waiting for :P And I had to go and blow a whole chapter on it just _because_.

* * *

Mikan hadn't watched TV with someone since she last visited her mom in Hokkaido, and it was lovely just to sit with people and watch mindless trash.

It was even better with Natsume; she'd done this sort of thing with old boyfriends before, but it had been a while since then. Perhaps she'd forgotten, or perhaps it was something to do with him, but just sitting, curled around him, was a wonderful feeling.

She was so comfortable and happy that she let her face sink into his neck, just appreciating the moment, and the TV started to fade out to a vague background noise – she often slept with it on at home – and the sound combined with Natsume's constant warmth, good-as-always smell and the overall cloying safeness, put her to sleep.

"You're quiet," Natsume remarked when Mikan hadn't shouted anything obscene at the television in a while.

"She's asleep," Aoi whispered, pointing at Mikan. Natsume glanced down and realized she was right. It was the middle of the _morning_, why was she sleeping?

That said, she was quite cute curled up on his shoulder like that; he had an intense feeling of possessing her. Not the angry sexual kind of possessing he'd exerted with girls he didn't care about, but a feeling of being _his_. Only he could hold her like this, and he liked to think that he was the only guy she was relaxed enough with to fall asleep on. He _liked _to think, he didn't actually know.

It felt... permanent. Like something that could always go on, as if she'd _always _be able to wrap her arms around his neck and fall asleep on his shoulder. He felt something very powerful, and it wasn't much of a stretch to lift her head off his shoulder and kiss her.

He'd not realized until recently the power of a simple kiss. How sometimes he _needed _to kiss her, just a kiss, not even anything more. It was something only he'd do to her, and fed his possessive side, as well as some other hungering need inside him that required her lips against his.

She woke sluggishly, starting to kiss him back before she was even properly awake, and raising her hands from his neck to tangle in his hair – she seemed to like doing that – she reciprocated and they kissed each other harder.

His breath deepened as her warm and sleepy presence crawled into his mouth, and he shifted her weight to lean on her, pressing down his weight as he curled one hand around her neck.

He'd never spent this long just making out with a girl (cumulative over the past few weeks, of course) in his life, but he almost regretted not realizing it earlier.

Then again, somehow he felt like it never would have been the same if it wasn't her.

What was she _doing _to him?

"Groooooossss you two!" Aoi whined. "I'm in here you know!" Aoi personally couldn't understand how one minute her brother and Mikan could be perfectly normal, and then they were suddenly _making out _like nobody's business. She found it a little disturbing, to be honest.

"Aoi," Natsume said shortly, as he ripped his mouth away from Mikan's for a moment. "Buzz off."

"What?!" she squealed. "Why?!"

"Because me and Mikan are going to do stuff, and you are too young to watch." He paused for thought while Mikan trailed her lips tantalisingly along his jaw. "You're also my sister."

"Very creepy," Mikan commented, right before she settled her lips over a particularly warm and squishy part of his neck and bit down.

"Ow!" he snapped. "What the fu..." He remembered his little sister was here. "Aoi. Buzz off. _Now_," he said sternly, and found that she didn't listen to him one bit, and instead threw a pillow at him.

"Fine, _we'll _go," he sighed, and with a loud groan stood up, still carrying Mikan. She wasn't big, and he could hold her weight pretty easily, if with a bit of straining.

"Wah!" she squeaked, and kicked her lower legs about. "Put me down!"

"Nope," he replied shortly, and walked in the direction of the stairs. "We're done here; you and I are going upstairs." Mikan struggled some more and he let her down – he probably wouldn't have been able to carry her all the way upstairs like that anyway.

"We're doing _what now?"_ she demanded coolly, and he grabbed her, a hand on either side of her face, and pulled her into possibly the most passionate kiss she'd ever experienced. Even _Narumi _fell behind conveying how much he wanted her from the kiss, and that was no mean feat.

But it wasn't quite a 'I'm going to take whatever I want from you and fuck everything else' kiss, it was more of a 'come upstairs with me (_please) _you know you want to too' sort of one, and she appreciated that.

Besides, she'd be dammed if she _didn't _want it too; that wake-up kiss had given her a few confused dream-moving-into-reality experiences, and she was just a little turned on.

Okay, she was really turned on. She adored him like this, and all she wanted to do was get nice and naked and _have sex _with him; she was still a young, sexualised eighteen year-old. She still had her paranoias that it might all be a big game, or that he'd lose interest once he'd got his rocks off, and leave her, but she wasn't so worried about them anymore – she _was _going to trust him.

So she wrapped her arms slowly around his neck and moved into another kiss, pulling away slightly to whisper, "Okay, okay."

With that he lifted her again into a strong hug, dropping her back on her feet with the kind of gratification he didn't think he was capable of feeling. He didn't like the fact that _she _had to have the final word on this, and he'd be dammed if it stayed that way, but he was deliriously happy that she'd finally said _yes_.

And not just because he wanted it, because she did too. That actually _mattered _to him.

They stumbled up the stairs and into his room, closing the door firmly behind them and leaning against it as they kissed.

However long ago it was that he thought all girls, particularly this one, were stupid sluts with no morals, personality or decency, it seemed worlds and worlds away from this moment now. She was a person, a girl, human, stupid, happy-sad or whatever mad emotion possessed her, and he couldn't believe that _he _was a person who didn't see that at first. He couldn't believe what he used to be, and that was how he knew he had changed – he'd told her once he wouldn't, but he was not who he used to be, whether he liked it or not.

She stepped back from the door, toward the bed, and he stopped to break away from her. She gave him a puzzled look, but it cleared when he reached over his own shoulders and pulled off his top: _of course._

She dithered about whether to do something similar herself, but he resolved this issue by grabbing her by the wrists, slipping his hands into hers, and stepping around her and pulling her to the bed – apparently _he'd _be in charge of this act.

She leant forwards and kissed him – no words were necessary anymore – and then dropped her head and planted a line of them along his collarbone; his skin warm against her lips.

Natsume wasn't exactly self-conscious about his body – he knew he was in pretty good shape – but he wasn't a piece of well trained sports-meat, and some part of him wondered what _she _thought about it. Kissing him, though, not on the mouth, he decided that it wasn't anything to be made an issue of, and they sunk down onto the bed together.

"You _better _have one," she rasped as she let him settle between her legs, and just as he did he swore.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"What? Shit? You don't have any?!" she snapped: he _had _to have at least one condom. If he didn't then they were just about fucked. She did _not _want to think about alternatives that didn't involve having sex now, not when they'd got this far.

"What? Of course I do," he retorted. "They're just on the other side of the room. It's bad enough having to use them at all." Mikan decided that instead of slapping him or anything, she would instead rake her nails across his shoulderblades, which provoked a... reaction.

Maybe not the one she'd been aiming for, but it was a reaction at least.

"You fucking move," he said sinfully, very obviously turned on, as he pushed himself up in bed and backed away from her; leaving her spread out on the duvet like an upturned beetle, "and I'll make you regret it. Stay _right _there." She would object to his assumed bossiness, but there was something she almost liked in the blunt way he was ordering her about. He _did _say he liked to top, and dominating seemed to be one of his favourite pastimes.

So fine, she would let him have what he wanted this time, but only because it'd make it even more of surprise when she had her turn: which she would.

He stormed back from across the room, where he'd been rummaging around in a chest of drawers, and threw a couple of packets down on the bed before he pounced back on top of her, trying to overwrite the stupidly embarrassing lapse-in-seduction break; Natsume wasn't used to such unromantic interruptions, even if they didn't bother Mikan so much as they _amused_ her.

Seeing as Mikan had conceded control of the situation because, to be perfectly honest, Natsume was only comfortable when he was in control during sex, whereas she was easier to do either, she had the nice opportunity to simply lie back and passively enjoy what he was doing, which involved a lengthy exploration of her body, with clothes being gradually removed along the way.

Natsume _was _going to make a proper job of this; if he waited _this long _then he'd have to make sure he did it right for fuck's sake.

She let her hands rest on his bare shoulders, following him down her body, but eventually fisted them in his hair when his face – more specifically his _mouth_ – reached between her legs. She still had her underwear on, but even a light press or rub made her breath shred in her throat, escaping in uneven gasps.

She moaned just a little when he clamped both hands down on her waist as she tried to move her hips into him, and he denied any more contact until he clambered back up to be level with her, smothering his lips over hers as he ground his peaked boxers between her legs, which she wrapped around his waist and further added to the friction – _now, _was the message, and it didn't need saying out loud.

He muttered to himself as he sat back to deal with the irritating business of applying the 'protection' – he _knew _he shouldn't be so careless about it, but it really wasn't his preference – and used the opportunity to liberate her of her underwear, which, he noticed gladly, were already wet.

Much like she was, he confirmed fully as he leant back over her, two fingers toying between her legs. He wasn't entering her though, oh no, this was testing the waters, but he was committed to making sure what penetrated her first. He wanted _some _sense of poetic justice, or whatever kind of shit... he wanted to _fuck _her. Properly.

Mikan worried, or maybe wondered was a better word, about how long it had been since she'd had sex; it was four or five months at least, and the fact that Natsume's... _well_, he wasn't small, to say the least.

He wasn't _massive _or anything, but it definitely wasn't small; would probably feel a bit uncomfortable at first, although she had expected something like that.

He'd waited _so long _for this, he knew as he 'readied all systems to go', but the silly thing was he didn't even care that he'd had to wait. He was _almost _(almost, not actually) grateful, because without this build-up it wouldn't have been as epic a moment as it was now.

And it didn't fail to live up to his expectations, he realized gladly, as he worked it in and made that first thrust. Her legs tightened around him and his breath tore out of him, everything lit up and he went again, and again; falling quickly into a rhythm. Under him she panted, lifting her breasts upwards with each rock and roll and meeting it with her hips.

She reached up and pulled herself close to him, her cheek against his and her face turned into him; her breaths deep and ragged as she squeezed her legs tighter around his waist, biting down on her lower lip as the pleasure built up and nearly overtook her.

She thought that would be _it_, after that small peak; it was their first time after all, and she didn't expect him to be able to make her come first time around. She didn't expect _anyone_, she never found it _that_ easy to reach orgasm was all. He probably wouldn't last long enough this time anyway – she'd made him wait quite a while, he had reasons to cross the finish line a little early...

She forgot this entirely when, sensing that he was coming close himself, but not quite close enough, and definitely alone, Natsume paused long enough to snap one of her legs out of the lock around his waist and bend it upwards, until her knee was nearly level with her chest. He thrust again, getting just a little deeper, but it was the little that counted for a lot, and he hit a _very _good spot.

To be fair, he'd taken her by surprise, and the powerful bolt that he shot through her took Mikan so off guard that she cried out by accident – she'd been _trying _to be quiet, because she knew Aoi was still in (to be honest she wasn't comfortable with her being here at all, or at least their abandoning her to do _this_, but she'd be dammed if either of them could hold it any longer), but she heard his snort of amusement as she stuffed her mouth with her fingers.

He bent her leg up even more – she was fairly flexible, even if she didn't appear to have done this before – and hit the same angle again, driving out a muffled squeak into her knuckles. Content he'd got the right spot, Natsume let out a sigh and relaxed into the hard last sprint, sure he was getting her worked up enough to let go himself.

He tried an extra trick or two grabbing one of her breasts, and it seemed to have the desired result – something he became even surer of when she snatched away her hand and grabbed the end of his pillow, pressing it down over her mouth and crying into it as he claimed a full and proper climax from her.

He wouldn't have settled for anything else, to be fair.

He'd timed well, and he was just about ready to come almost as soon as she finished. He tightened his hand over her breast and groaned in the back of his throat, letting the all build-up and the lust and the desire tear out of him in one final wreck, pouring hotly into her.

Or the fucking condom, if he had to be realistic about it, which he didn't really want to. He intended to persuade her to go on the pill as soon as possible.

Tension spent, he drooped on top of her, relaxing and releasing her leg as he panted into the wind-down.

"Holy shit, Natsume," she whispered hoarsely, and he didn't hide his grin; he'd obviously done what he intended to do. He pulled out and awkwardly disposed of the spent contraception, and then ended up hovering in the middle of the floor, between bed and door. Normally he would go for a shower about now, usually he wanted to get the mess of sex off him as soon as possible, but he realized that – considering what they'd been arguing about for the past two days – Mikan wouldn't interpret that very well at all, which was best avoided.

He went to the bed, at least he could put on his boxers. He knelt down over her on the bed, a hand and foot on either side of her, and stared into her glassy brown eyes.

"...Uh, hey," he said softly, almost laughing at how stupid he sounded. She blinked slowly and took a breath in and out. "Hello?" he said a in a more attention-drawing manner, and finally her eyes seemed to meet his; coming back from whatever far-away place her mind had been.

She picked up a flaccid arm and reached for him, tracing her fingers clumsily down the side of his face until she reached his jaw, she closed her hand and pulled his mouth down towards her, sitting up a little so they met in the middle.

He was aware of the idea that most girls wanted 'cuddling' after sex, but Natsume had actually never done it; sex in his experience had always been cut and run – Yuri, as can be guessed, wasn't into the romantic side of the act, _she _was the one who started and reinforced his habit of showering and immeaditely leaving afterwards.

However, for Mikan, he could make allowances. He'd made enough already, he might as well go ahead and do the lot. It wasn't like he had any actual objection to it, just that his habits were slightly different.

He made quick movement with his head to indicate she shift over, and settled down next to her in his less-than-enough-for-two single; she sidled up to his side and wound an arm over his chest gratefully, burying her face in his shoulder and sighing heavily.

"Thanks," he heard her murmur, and he simply rolled his head and brushed his lips against her hair.

_Silly paranoid thing_, he thought to himself, and then said, "I'm not going anywhere." He let his eyes glaze shut, there was something to be said for simply relaxing afterwards, and felt himself drifting off, even as she sat up and put on what he gauged to be her own underwear and his top. Wriggling back next to him, she made herself comfortable, and then _looked _at him. Just looked.

"It's weird to watch people sleep," he muttered quietly; eyes still closed.

"You aren't asleep," she replied factually.

"I could be."

"Fine," she said, and continued staring.

"You're still doing it." He shot her a look out of a crack in his eye.

"I know."

"And?"

"I don't care."

"Oh," was all he could say. "...Fine." He closed his eyes properly, but heard and felt her moving; stretching out to reach him and pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek.

They didn't realize it, but they were both thinking the same thing at that moment: if things stayed even half as good as this... 'they' could actually be _serious_.

* * *

I'm in a big rush now so please leave a review, because _dude _I knocked the hell out of the lemon. :P


	19. XIX

Surprisingly enough the chapter before the lemon got more reviews than the lemon, lol. It's the only one you'll get in that much detail :)

Anyway, not much else to say, so _go diago go!_

* * *

That Monday at school, Mikan and Natsume couldn't seem to find a bit of time to get together, in spite of how much they both wanted to – if this was what he meant by 'working around' his infidelity then he had certainly succeeded, because the desire to see him was much stronger than the bitterness from before. She was still angry and hurt when she thought about it, but she understood why it happened, and she didn't want to ruin what they'd managed to build back, almost miraculously so.

However, the rest of the school didn't know this, and the word was they were either broken up or just about to. That was why Koko, a childhood friend of Sumire's who hung out with them quite a lot, was staring very obviously at Mikan that day, and putting around talk of making a move on her – if she'd date _him_, she wouldn't be able to turn a guy like himself down.

Mikan didn't really register this, and as he lavished attention on her at lunch she simply wondered why he was being so odd; for the last two weeks he'd barely said a word to her, and now he wanted to know lots of things… _weird_.

She wondered where Natsume was – not noticing that Koko's eyeline was slowly sinking down to her chest – until she promptly discovered his whereabouts.

Koko turned around when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and looked around to come face-to-face with a bowlful of cold noodle soup.

"Enjoying the view?" Natsume hissed sarcastically, as he dumped the contents of an abandoned meal over the bastard's head.

"Eh? What the fuck are you doing, Natsume?!" Mikan squealed, and then shrunk down when he gave her a genuinely furious look.

"I don't like watching people hit on my girlfriend," he said angrily, and – much to his relief – saw Mikan's confused 'what-what-what?!' face. He didn't want to entertain the thoughts of her letting something like that happen _willingly_. Not after yesterday.

"He wasn't hitting on me!" she protested, and then looking back on it and realizing that it _could _be, at least, to Natsume it could.

"You're _barely_ together," Koko snarled, and then shot a lusty look at Mikan. "I thought she was free game."

"Free game?!" Mikan _and _Natsume yelled back at him in outrage.

"Who are you calling 'game', huh?" Mikan snapped. "What am I supposed to be?!"

"What the _fuck _do you think you're saying!" Natsume said at the same time, and then hesitated as he heard Mikan talk as well. "You've got some balls talking like that," he glowered. "You better be prepared to back it up."

"What?" Koko grunted, only to realize a second late that Mikan had leant over the table, almost in perfect sync with Natsume's words, and flipped his lunch in his face.

"_One_, I have a boyfriend, so fuck off," she said coolly, as Koko was covered in his own food. "_Two_, that was the most pathetic chat-up ever; and _three_, what's going on between me and my boyfriend is none of your fucking business. So keep your mouth shut." Natsume crossed his arms over his chest.

"I haven't seen you today," he remarked moodily, and she returned an equally dispassionate look.

"I know, it seems like people assume that if we aren't making out then we must be breaking up," she retorted tartly.

"I wonder how we could fix that," he suggested, walking around the table so he was on her side. He'd stopped trying to appear so brashly off-putting and dorky at school, because he obviously didn't want to look like a complete prat in front of his girlfriend. However, he did have that musty paper-smell she knew meant he'd been reading or doing stock-takes in the library.

She was growing to not-hate it, though, and it didn't bother her that his hand, as he took her jaw in it, held that faint papery page-turning scent.

He tipped her face upwards and kissed her; quite openly, but without tongues, in the middle of the busy hall.

"I think that makes it clear," he said darkly, shooting another threatening look at Koko. He held her close for a few seconds and added a further few pecks for good measure, and then stopped before he got carried away. After yesterday he wasn't exploding with lust anymore, but it felt like the connection he had with her had been set, and it was _hard _to hold everything back.

"Sit down," she encouraged, but he shook his head; he wasn't an idiot: he wouldn't sit with her and her shallow friends to be subject to ridicule.

Ruka was also waiting for him.

"No; I've got to go," he explained, "but I'll see you after school."

"Fine," she sighed; he would have to socialise with her friends eventually, right?

As he left, Natsume touched his palm on top of her head and ruffled her hair, a small but intimate gesture, and needless to say, her friends were suitably baffled. Many of them started asking questions, but one person's voice stood out of the crowd.

"So when did _that_ happen?!" Sumire squawked when Natsume was out of earshot. Mikan knew what she was asking about; she read Mikan uncannily well.

"Um… yesterday," she replied awkwardly.

"_Where _did that happen?"

"His house."

"You've been to his _house_ now?"

"Well… on Saturday I had to meet his family for dinner…"

"You've met _his family_?!" The last time Sumire had checked Mikan was clinging onto Natsume, as she tended to do with doomed relationships, while they crashed down onto the rocks after he went and _cheated _on her. Now she'd met his _family_ and had slept with him as well?! Some weekend.

"It… all went quite quickly," Mikan confessed, and Sumire slapped her hand down on the table.

"Exactly, girl!" she warned. "That's where he _gets _you." Mikan stared down at the table sadly. Or, Sumire had thought it was sadly.

"_Don't_, Sumire," she threatened suddenly, her tone firm and serious.

"I know exactly what you think, and I know what you're going to say, and believe me _he _knows too, but…"

"But?" she prompted.

"But… well… it's not like that." Sumire cackled.

"That's what they _all _say, babe. You're being played."

"I am _not_!" Mikan snarled, slamming her hands down on the table and glaring at Sumire. "He's not…_like that_, with me," she said quietly; it sounded so weak when she tried to explain it to other people. "I know exactly what you mean, but it's _different_. He…" Sumire, and most of her other friends for that matter, didn't look impressed. "Look," she said calmly. "I know what I'm doing, if I fuck up it's my bad, so can you all just… stop _judging_ me."

She was worried by two things, firstly that she'd lied to her friends – she _didn't _know what she was doing, she was trusting her emotions on a complete whim, but she didn't feel like she could tell them that. Secondly she sounded…

She sounded like Natsume. Telling them not to judge her, _knowing _they were judging her.

Everyone was quiet.

"Fine, Mikan. Whatever," Sumire sighed. "It's your call; we won't say another word about it." – _to you_, was the implication there, but it was the best Mikan could hope for in the situation.

"Hah, Koko, you got made such a fool of," someone laughed, and the mood defused.

No one could believe that he'd been made such an idiot of by the _library kid_, and Mikan tried to join in, but quickly gave up when she realized how much she wanted to yell at all of them for being such idiots about Natsume. He was _different_, he was bookish and a bit quiet – not to mention anti-social – but why did that mean he had to be ridiculed? What stupid rule meant that not fitting in with everyone else made you into a joke?

She realized that this was very alike to what Natsume used to say, and she saw, for the first time, one speck of truth in his analysis of her friends. She hated it.

She wondered what it was Natsume had to do, and suddenly wished she could be there; she could find out if he and Nogi-kun were like… _this_. Maybe that was why Nogi-kun didn't hang with them, even if he was 'cool' enough to do so.

"Mikan, can I have a word, babe?" Sumire leant over and whispered in her ear, and glad for an opportunity to get out of there Mikan eagerly said yes.

"Look, if this is about…" she started wearily, but Sumire shook her head.

"Not _him_, I meant it: I'll lay off, it's your choice or whatever," she reassured her. "But… well, you're going out with… _him_ and everything now… and you know how he's always with…"

"Nogi-kun?" she suggested perkily. "You want me to get in with him?"

"Well…" Sumire mumbled bashfully. "If you were just, like, _with them_ sometime, I could come up and introduce myself... see, _then_ it would be easy!" she boasted. "Once I talk to him everything will fall into place." Mikan laughed; Sumire was, and always would be, pure Sumire.

"Sure, easy," she replied. "I can do that."

"You can? Oh _thanks_!" she squealed, jumping at Mikan and hugging her, and then within a second she had changed tack completely. "So you two finally got it on, huh?" she said in a hushed tone, pushing the two of them towards a bench.

"Well… yeah," she replied, and as Sumire glared the 'explain the rest to me now' out of her, she was urged to continue.

"We had an argument the night before, right? I was saying all those things you keep trying to tell me, I asked him if it was all just a game and what I was supposed to think, seeing what he was like, you know, _before_." She looked away as she wondered why she was talking like things were totally different now _she_ was around, but Sumire's prodding made her resume talking. "And well, he's just… and he says… and…" she floundered, unable to find words to explain it; even when he'd said it so well himself. She couldn't recapture the moment at all.

"Talk sense," Sumire taunted.

"He's just _different_!" she cried. "He says all these _things_, like, they sound so crap if I say them now, like how I'm the only girl he's actually liked, or that everything now is _different _to what he did before – it sounds lame – but at the _time _you can just _tell_…. He's…he's..."

"Intense," Sumire finished for her. "I know. Mikan, I'm not trying to talk you out of him, I just... you two _act _like…"

"Like?"

"Like you're in love," she blurted. "You do. You've only been with him like two months, and I think you're going too fast."

"You've slept with boys in less than two months," Mikan remarked, not bitchily, but as a statement of fact.

"Not _that_, I mean, it's just… I didn't think people could get over what he _did_ to you, and you're _there_. It's almost freaky." Mikan was quiet. Sumire had mentioned the _l word_, the L word she'd been trying not to think about for fear of jinxing it.

"I…" she murmured shyly, "really like him. But I can't…"

"Fall in love?" Sumire prompted; they both knew it, she was just the only one who could say it.

"I know!" she groaned. "It's _there_, it's definitely there. I _could _fall for him if it carried on being like it is now… I mean, yesterday, it was _so lovely_."

"Lovely?" Sumire echoed. "I can't believe you referred to sleeping with _him _as 'lovely', I've _been _there," she muttered bitterly, "and it wasn't lovely.

"I know, and I _hate _that part of him that did that, but the flipside, who I was with yesterday… _god, _he's amazing. The sex, when we finally got to it because we didn't even just jump into bed _either_, was great, really great for a first time... but it was _everything_. He knew, because I'd told him, how I thought he'd just leave as soon as we'd done it, and then he stopped, and he thought about it, and he, like, _cuddled_."

Sumire laughed. "He cuddled after sex?"

"It sounds stupid, but it meant a lot at the time. To me," she confessed, and Sumire gave her a hug.

"You have such a soft head, Mikan," she giggled.

"_He _did it," she complained. "I was fine, and he came along and made me go all gooey."

"You know, I bet he's saying the same thing about you," Sumire said with a smirk. "It's hard to believe it's the same guy."

"From before? I _know_," she rushed. "He's completely different… or, more like, he only used to be one face, just one personality he showed to everyone, and as soon as you do a little digging there's this _human being _underneath; he's a freak, and seriously fucked up, but every shitty point has this amazing opposite in there somewhere."

It could be said that Sumire saw it coming second; Mikan seemed to know Natsume in a way that wasn't normal for who, what, and how long they'd been.

As much as she was trying to deny it now, she was falling for him, even at this stage. Big time.

"But hey, you don't want to listen to me ranting about him non-stop. We're going out tonight, right?"

"Oh yes!" Sumire cheered, "There's a goukon I promised Anna I'd go with her on, but that doesn't mean you can't come as a friend." Of course not, Mikan thought, and arranged to meet Sumire later that night. If anyone approached her she'd just say no, which was fine obviously.

* * *

"So you finally did it?"

"Yes."

"Well, was she good? You've chased it long enough."

"...Yeah, it was."

Ruka couldn't understand why Natsume was being so reserved. Normally he loved to go into obscene and detailed boasts about who he'd slept with (and how), and he'd thought Mikan would be the absolute pinnacle of all of that. But for some reason he didn't seem to be willing to chat.

"That it? You… usually seem a bit more…"

"Look," Natsume said frankly. "It was nice. I don't really want to talk about it right now; it was… private." He could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth, but as soon as he thought about trying to tell Ruka, he lost his words. _How _could he explain it? He wasn't ready to think about how he'd felt, how good it was _more _than physically, how he'd enjoyed lying with her afterwards, and that sweet kiss on the cheek that'd given him goosebumps; he'd just _fucked _her and she gave him goosebumps with a peck on the cheek.

Not to mention that, instead of scrounging for food like he'd planned, she dragged him and Aoi into the kitchen and made lunch instead; ordering them about like she was a head chef or something, which made them both laugh (when she wasn't throwing spoons at them), and felt wonderfully comfortable and domestic.

And how afterwards everything just _continued_, there was no wash-back of feelings now the surf had broken he'd been so accustomed to. It was business as usual, except there was none of the 'will-we-won't-we' of before. Which made it even better, if anything.

"Oh," said Ruka, surprised. "That's fair enough then." Natsume was sure he'd tell Ruka in good time, but just not _now_, he reasoned. He couldn't put it into words yet.

* * *

Mikan stood outside the school impatiently, picking off her nail varnish in boredom – where _was _he?

She knew when she felt a presence near her, and not a second after a pair arms wrapped tightly around her from behind.

"Hey," he said, mostly into her hair, but she heard him well enough.

"Hey!" she chirped brightly. "You're hugging me! You actually came up and hugged me!" She sounded so surprised he was almost offended.

"Can't I do that?" he questioned as he let go, standing up straight and stepping up to her side.

"Yeah, you just don't normally," she explained. "You're always going in for a snog, but you barely ever 'just hug'."

"I like kissing better than hugs," he replied, trying to go in to prove his point, but she stopped him with a hand over his lips.

"Hugs are special, _really_ special," she argued. "Hugs do something nothing else does... hugs are universal, hugs..."

"I get it, I get it," he taunted, hugging her from the side and draping his arms over her shoulder. "You like hugs. You know what _else _is really special?" he suggested suavely, whispering softly in her ear.

"What?" she asked a little dryly – she _did _know the answer already.

He darted his head close to her, held it for a second, and then stuck his tongue in her ear.

"Ahhh!" she screamed, pushing him away. "What the fuck! That was weird! What did you even _do _that for?!" He laughed, in fact, he cackled, and flicked her in the middle of the forehead.

"It was funny," he said, as if that excused everything, and she scowled. "Anyway, I was just telling you about..."

"Sex," she finished the sentence for him. "This may come as a shock to you, but I know about sex already."

"Are you sure?" he teased, stepping closer and slipping her hand into his. "Maybe I need to give you a quick test."

"What kind of kink is that?" she scoffed, winking at him mischievously.

"Well, you do like teachers," he retorted, and she gave him a very narrow look. "Just _saying_," he pleaded, holding his hands out defensively. "I'm not into any kinky shit anyway," he added on the side.

"Oh really?" Mikan said brightly, starting to walk away from the school. "Well I guess you'll have to _learn_ then..."

He registered what she'd said about ten steps after she said it, and suddenly bounded after her.

"Wait... _what?!"

* * *

_I ended on a joke for novelty value. Is Mikan into kink?

Wouldn't you like to know ;P

Natsume is also a gross boy who sticks his tongue in girls' ears. Because we _all _know that _all _boys do this.

Leave a review :D


	20. XX

Updated! I've been killing myself writing this recently, but also enjoying it. However, tonight I'm getting some _sleep _and Natsume and Mikan will have to wait.

Make this one last ;) (That's not to say I won't have something up by the weekend though :D)

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a rosy blur, snatching time together where they could between jobs, tutors and _parents; _however, Natsume went to great effort to make sure there was at least _one _window per week in which they could have sex. A window, of course, being a moment of free time and opportunity, not an _actual _window. Although they _had_ tried a few other places apart from the bed now.

He could copewith that. So long as he could be _intimate_ with her at least _once_ a week, he felt like it was good enough. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to get by on.

He didn't know what his parents thought about it now; he'd gone from barely speaking to them to only-when-absolutely-forced to. He couldn't stand them, knowing how they felt about her; willing him to break up with her as soon as possible. It was sometimes hard not to persuade her to fuck her in their bed, just to rub in how much he _hadn't _ended it on their command.

At school, stories about just what had happened when Koko tried to flirt with Mikan were wildly exaggerated and fully respected; boys didn't so much at _glance _at her in a lecherous way if Natsume was thought to be on the prowl. It became very clear to everyone that they _were _a couple, in spite of all the odds, and seemed to be intent on remaining so for the foreseeable future.

The strangest thing, many people remarked, was that they actually looked quite _good_ as a pair, whether they were arguing or kissing, or a little bit of both.

However, Mikan started to wonder, as they passed the benchmark of the third month of their relationship, and graduation – and university exams – drew closer, why she allowed him to plan Mission-impossible style stunts to get 'together time' in his house around the workings of his parents, while she had a perfectly empty one.

He'd never actually asked her yet, and she didn't think she'd lie to him if he _did _ask, but she was deliberately not-mentioning it to him that she lived alone.

When she was lying in bed on her own, often wishing he was there – even just to see what it would be like – she'd decide that she would to tell him somehow, but when the opportunities came she never seemed to be able to say it. Something stopped her every time.

She finally realized why it was one day when she came in with a hangover; she'd been out with Sumire the night before and had a few too many.

"You have a hangover?" he said curiously when she told him, as if he'd never heard of such a thing before.

"Yeah, I got a bit carried away last night," she explained sickly, leaning on his shoulder and breathing in his smell like a medicine. His arm, which had been curled comfortingly around her shoulders, loosened slightly.

"Why were you drinking?" he asked suspiciously.

"What? Well... I was out in a bar, wasn't I?" she replied. "That's what you _do _in bars."

"Where?" he demanded. "Who with?"

"Eh? Sumire and some friends," she answered. "Why are you talking like that?"

"Any _guys _there?" he questioned irately, ignoring her question about his attitude.

"Yes," she said shortly, "but... I am capable of telling people I have a boyfriend."

"Drunk?"

"What?"

"Are you capable of doing it drunk?" he replied coldly, and Mikan felt her stomach curdling; she was _not _in the best mood, and he was being a pain. She _usually _liked it when he was possessive, when he was turned on just by the sight of her in one of his t-shirts, or when he held her in a comfortable 'me and only me' tangle on the sofa... but _this _wasn't the sort that she liked one bit.

"I don't know, you tell me," she spat. "I remember keeping _your_ hands off me drunk a fair few times."

"I remember sticking my tongue down your throat drunk a fair few times as well," he hissed, "and I don't know why you are acting like I'm being unreasonable here."

"_I'm _being unreasonable?" she snarled. "You're the one acting like I'm not allowed to go out."

"I just don't think you staggering around a group of guys pissed off your face is a smart thing to do," he snapped. "I know _exactly _what they're thinking."

"You know what _you'd _think," she retorted. "Not all guys are like you."

"You overestimate us," he said derisively. "We think the same things when there's a pissed tart about." She shrieked and pushed away from him. "That wasn't directed at you!" he growled in annoyance. He'd just meant it as a vague example, but she'd taken it as direct slander.

"Of course it was!" she protested. "Who the fuck else are you talking about?"

"I'm speaking in general terms," he groaned in exasperation. "You never even _told _me you were going out last night."

"Well you never ask!" she argued. "I go out all the time, why would I tell you every time I do? I _have_ my own life."

"'All the time' now?" he quoted viciously. "This is new to me. You didn't _not tell me _every single time, you never mentioned it _once_! When do you go out with these other guys?"

"I don't go out with other guys!" she refuted. "I go out with my _friends_! I'm allowed friends, aren't I?"

"It depends what you do with 'your friends'," he hissed, "doesn't it?" At this she screamed and made a frustrated gesture at him with her hands.

"You can't stop me having friends!" she stated. "I can't believe you're acting like this is new! I've _always _gone out in the evenings. When I met you obviously some of those times started being with you, but what made you think I stopped going out with _anyone else_?"

"Common decency," he muttered. "Obviously _my mistake."_

"I'm not doing anything _wrong_!" she screeched. "Don't 'common decency' me! You don't understand because you _have _no social life outside me, but going out for a drink with friends is _normal._" He very obviously took a lot of offence to her claim that he had no social life outside of his relationship with her.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled. "As your _boyfriend_, I had kind of assumed I'd know if you were going out on the piss without me every other night. How the fuck am I supposed to know what you're doing?"

"You _aren't!" _she retorted. "You don't own me! There's _plenty_ you don't know about me."

"Like what?" He bit. She hesitated; unable to think now he'd put her on the spot... except for _one _thing, which she still couldn't bring herself to say it; not when they were like this.

"I... can't think of anything right now. That doesn't mean it's not true though," she argued.

"This is stupid!" he stated. "You're flipping out at _me _because you're in a shitty mood from being out, _drunk, _doing hell-knows-what behind my back..."

"Oh that is fucking rich!" she screamed, realizing that this was beginning to transgress the boundaries of a normal argument; this was bad, and as they'd gotten more comfortable and happy in the 'honeymoon' of their relationship the number of conflicts they'd had was less in general. The last time they'd argued like this was probably before they'd first had sex, or even earlier than that. "YOU are trying to talk to me about going behind each others back?! Do I have to remind you about the girl you fu–"

"That's different!" he retorted.

"Only because _I'm_ not fucking anyone!" she screamed in frustration. "Except _you _of course."

"Hn, seems like you'd rather be out with _them_," he snorted offhandedly, and unfortunately the case was that Mikan _had _said she was busy to him last night, when he'd suddenly announced a change in his parents plans and that the house was free. She had made the plans with Sumire and Nonoko first, and she wasn't going to ditch her girlfriends to have sex with Natsume, no matter how hard he tried to talk her around.

"You are taking it completely out of context! I had plans with them first!"

"But you failed to tell me these plans would end up with you crying on my shoulder this morning about your hangover," he accused. "You said you were 'busy'."

"I _was _busy! Just because I didn't give you a fucking guest list – when you didn't even _ask_ – doesn't mean they weren't still plans. I don't know what twisted thinking would make you think that I'm supposed to ditch my friends whenever you've got a hard-on."

He scowled, his points shrinking away and his anger only growing. "Why do you have to go out every night anyway?" he fired wildly. "Why is it so _necessary_ for you to not be at home for once? _I've _never even been to your house!"

"What?!" she ranted. "This is so stupid! You are just making up points as you go along!"

"I _haven't _ever been inside your place," he remarked. "I've never met your family. I've never gotten any further than the fucking door."

"Well, with good reason, don't you think?!" she retorted furiously. "If I let you get to me at _home _I'd never be able to do anything on my own, would I? You'd try to control every fucking thing about me, like you are now!" This, although said in anger, had a portion of truth in it. It occurred to Mikan that her empty house was the seat of her independence, and if Natsume became a part of that then he would _change _things, she would no longer be able to have that entirely private side of herself the house had brought her, and everything would just be _different_.

If he got in the house he'd know everything else, and she would be blasted wide open for him to wreck exactly as he pleased. She wasn't sure if she was ready to do that yet; sure, they _had _been getting along well and only becoming more fond of each other as the days passed, but if he got in _there _then... her heart would be ripped open for the taking.

She didn't want to get it broken. She'd experience in that manner, and she was not keen on letting it happen again.

"When did I even say that?!" he raged.

"You implied it!"

"Now you're telling me what I'm implying?!" he spat sarcastically. "I didn't know you knew me better than I did."

"Oh, believe me, I do," she scoffed, and, unusually, he took a threatening step towards her.

"You should hear how you fucking sound," he said darkly. "Even better, you should see how you fucking _look_; did you even _get _home last night?" There was a distinct clapping sound as, for the first time in almost a month, Mikan slapped Natsume with all of her strength.

"Stop saying things to upset me just because you're pissed off!" she shouted wanly; she felt like shit already, him spitting out things like that just made her feel worse.

"Same to you!" he countered, a hand to his stinging cheek. "Slap me, that solves everything doesn't it?!" he bellowed sardonically, and she clenched her fists tight in fury.

"Stop being such a bastard," she threatened.

"Stop being such a bitch," he shot back. "I hope your gang of sluts have something planned tonight as well, because you can fuck off if you think you're coming over."

"Leave my friends out of this!" she cried at the top of her voice, her hands shaking as adrenaline torpedoed through her body. "You couldn't make me come over if you _tried_."

"I don't need to try; _I do_," he retorted dirtily, enraging her even more.

"You... _shit_, you absolute shit," she swore brokenly. "Do you even think that's funny? I really fucking don't. I felt like hell this morning and you've actually managed to make it _worse_, so well done."

"You did it to yourself," he informed her cockily, "when you got _wasted _last night, not that _I'd _know anything about it..."

"Hey! You know what? You're _right_!" she laughed hysterically. "In the first place, if you didn't point-blank refuse to so much as _talk _to the people who've been in my life a lot longer than you have, then I might have invited you out too; you're too fucking anti-social to ever agree to going out in a group. But that's not even it!" she continued, with a frightening blend of absolute trembling anger and careless amusement. "

You know what you're so right about? You _not knowing _anything!" she triumphed. "You have no idea why I spend a lot of time with my friends; going out every night, which you make sound like _such_ a crime, you have no idea what it's like to have a fucking empty house every single day to go back to. You make it sound like you have such a bad deal with your parents, but, _shit, _what I wouldn't give to have _my_ parents around even to argue with!"

"You have your mum!" he retorted feebly; unable to understand what she was saying. Sure her dad was dead but what did she mean? "Her and your step-dad..."

"There _are _things you don't know about me," she said forebodingly, and suddenly he _saw_: the lights inside were always out, she barely talked about them, she didn't get in trouble for going home late or drunk, and she could go out any time she wasn't working... she cooked all her own food, lived on her own low income, and talked about how long it had been since she'd done things like eat a meal at home with people,or watch the TV with them.

"Mikan," he said coldly, "who lives in your place?"

"I do," she answered, just as cut off and unwilling.

"And your mother?"

"She lives with her husband," she explained dryly.

"Who lives?" he prompted, and Mikan knew this was it – this would be the moment – she could tell the truth, or try to lie to him. Which would be totally stupid, because he had probably guessed already, judging from the way he talked.

"In Hokkaido."

Natsume was quiet for a while.

"Holy shit," he murmured. "What the _fuck_?" He looked straight at her. "You live on your own?"

She held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away awkwardly. "I fucking hate my house..." she murmured. "It is cold, and it is _empty_." She looked back at him, but only got as far as looking at his legs before she turned away again. "Mom got married about two years ago, but he had his work and family up there... I wanted her to be happy, she loved it there, and they could afford to keep this place so long as I took care of my food budget."

He could barely believe it, how could she live alone? How had he never noticed? Why had she never said, 'hey, my house is empty, I'm the only person who lives there!'? Why had he jumped through hoops trying to cram time in at his house while she had hers empty?

He was about to start laying into her for this, when he glared at her and saw _the face_.

He'd never seen or heard her cry to date, but _the face_ was a look of hers that made him think she could burst into tears at any moment, and it scared him shitless.

"I've _always _gone out," she explained, "because I don't like being there. It sounds simple enough, right? If I don't hang out with some people doing karaoke or going to a bar then I have to go back there; back to that miserable shell."

It was a little ironic that to Mikan, the thing that represented her independence was the very thing she avoided using it; it symbolised her freedom, but she couldn't stand to be there.

He moved suddenly, and she couldn't move to get away, and he had caught her by both wrists before she could even struggle.

"_Why_ didn't you tell me?" he asked, quietly; not shouting or cursing like he had before, but still angry.

"At first?" she began. "Well, I didn't want you to think of it just as a place to fuck..." His face soured.

"Then?" he prompted curtly, not liking to admit how she was very likely right.

"Then...I...don't know," she mumbled; his hands still tight and hot around her wrists. "If you knew then... _my stuff_... would...or _wouldn't... _you know...it'd all be different... because you'd just..._ugh..._"

"Wait," he scoffed, slowly following what she was trying to say. "Wait. You didn't want me to change your way of doing things? Your 'stuff'?"

"Well... if you knew _everything_ then you'd be in on it all... " she sighed, "and you'd _say things_, and change _things_."

He snorted, and then he laughed out loud.

"You didn't want me to fuck up your bit?" he surmised. "_You_ didn't want me to fuck up your routine?" She looked around, and then nodded in an embarrassed sort of way that meant she didn't really know how else to explain it. "_I _had a routine, you know," he reminded her caustically. "You destroyed it within a week of knowing you; you are _late," _he chuckled. "to hanging onto your old way of doing things. Routines are long gone." He forced her to look at him. "We're past them."

"Stop just _saying things!_" she snapped. "You don't know _everything_, you know? What do you know about relationships?!" This was true, she had much more experience in relationships than he ever had, but even with Tsubasa, and certainly with Narumi, she had still always had her own private side to her life; like they had theirs.

Natsume... well, he wasn't playing it that way. It was all or nothing, and he obviously expected it all.

"I don't know anything," he said softly. "But I know how I feel." His eyes darkened, and he let go of one of her hands, but did not release the other. "This is fucking bullshit," he muttered to himself, pulling her along behind him wordlessly.

"Uh, Natsume?" she cautioned as he dragged her. "Natsume? Where are we going? Let go of me! Hey! Natsume! Where are we going?! Natsume! Fucking hell, _listen _to me! _Natsume!"

* * *

_Haha, I made them argue all chapter! Ya-boo-sucks to romance ;)

Where's he taking her, huh? Secret. Which I refuse to tell unless you review.

So there.

:P


	21. XXI

I got the second half of this chapter done in the latter half of a sobering-up bent. I went to the pub with friends about half way through this, lol, but I'm so determined (and I hate sleeping drunk) that I managed to finish it. Even if it _is _twenty to four in the morning.

* * *

"Uh, Natsume?" she cautioned as he dragged her. "Natsume? Where are we going? Let go of me! Hey! Natsume! Where are we going?! Natsume! Fucking hell, _listen _to me! _Natsume!" _screamed Mikan Sakura, as her just-about boyfriend dragged her down the street.

She scratched, she twisted, she kicked; _hell_, she even bit – but nothing she did would make him release the vice grip he had on her wrist.

"Natsume! The fuck! Look at me!" she screeched, and he came to an angry stop.

"I'm still mad with you," he hissed, "but if you keep on like _that _I will just pick you up."

"You can't carry me all the way to… wherever we're going!" she spat, and then in a few startling movements he stepped around her and threw her over his shoulder.

"Ahhh!" she squealed, as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into her stomach. "Put me down!"

"If you shut up!" he snarled, and she could feel the heat of his anger; he was still absolutely furious, and carrying her _somewhere _to do god-knows-what with her.

"Tell me where we're going!" she retorted.

"_Why _didn't you tell me?" he asked brutishly.

"What?!"

"Why didn't you say you lived alone?"

"You never asked!"

"That isn't a fucking excuse," he snapped, as he stopped and dumped her back on her feet. "_Why _didn't you say anything?"

"I…" she spluttered. "How am I supposed to say something like that? Hey, that's my house, no _my _house, my parents live hundreds of miles away. It doesn't come up in conversation. I didn't want to tell you," she stated coolly, "so I didn't. Why are you taking it like such a big thing?"

"Because I've found out in the space of a half hour that you've _forgotten _to mention half the stuff in your life to me!" he fumed. "Going out on the piss every night without consequences, what with _not _living with your parents; _why-_didn't-you-say-anything?"

"Because you're not… not!" she stammered. "You're not my... _husband_!" she finally finished, and he was cowed into silence for a moment. Not a good time to talk about marriage. Ever.

"I don't know about you," she said quietly, "but I don't tell guys I'm dating every single detail about my life, I don't burn off their ear complaining about my problems or making the worst of every situation. _I _don't know everything about you, so I don't know why you are making such a big deal about this. Remember when we first started dating?" He remembers; the reservations, the hesitancy to tell her anything she could 'use' with her friends, the trade-offs of questions about simple things like their taste in food or music.

"I…" he started, but trailed away into non-existence. "I…" he lashed out his hand and grabbed hers again. "Let's just go," he glowered. "I'll explain…_later_…" They walked to a bus stop, he pushed her onto a bus – paying for both of their fares – and walled her into the seat with an unresponsive cold shoulder.

"Natsume, _explain_ this," she pleaded. "I don't know why you're flipping out… we… we're supposed to be in school," she reminded him. He didn't say anything, and her mood – much like the contents of her stomach – lurched about uncomfortably.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" she snapped. "I don't know what the hell I've done that's so wrong, or why you're so pissed off, but this is all completely stupid. Let's go back to school."

"I don't feel like that place," he growled, glaring out of the window. "If I have to sit through one more of Persona's classes I'm going to fucking kill myself." Mikan went quiet: Persona. Anyone who knew what it was like having a 'Dangerous Alice' hated Persona, and with a reason.

To others he seemed nice enough, weird maybe, and a little perverse, but there was nothing intrinsically wrong with him.

Until you got him behind closed doors.

Hell knows what had happened to him as a child – _his _Alice had put him in prison for double life sentences before the Academy found him, and – fuck knows _why _– decided that he'd be perfect as the teacher for their programme.

Maybe they thought a 'reformed' bad-Alice user would be able to help their kids, but Persona was the opposite to help.

He didn't take _all _the counselling classes, but the ones he did had locks on the doors. For a reason. He didn't hurt you… _well_, he didn't hit students (often), but he drilled the most negative, self-loathing and vicious hatred into students; until they were afraid to use their Alice because they _knew _what he might do to them; because they were ashamed to be themselves.

A criminal man with a criminal mind; Persona thought that punishment was the best preventative for future crimes, and he was particularly savage with Natsume, and turning sour on Mikan recently, as well. She did not doubt how serious he was by that 'I'll kill myself' comment; Persona could _do _that to people.

"Shit, he's on today?" she murmured, and he nodded.

"I saw the car in the parking lot," he explained. "I was just going to skip, but then _you _opened your fat fucking mouth and…"

"Shut it," she snarled. "This entire argument is your doing. I hate that guy, but I'm not missing the rest of my lessons. I'll fail my exams."

"Big deal," he retorted. "What the _fuck _does it matter anyway?" It was then that an alarm bell went off in Mikan's head. _Shit_, it said, _triggers._

"Natsume," she said fiercely, "look at me." He didn't for a while, but then, as if he couldn't stop himself, he slowly glanced over at her.

"If you're thinking about that, _don't_," she threatened. "You stopped me; now I'm stopping you. Where are we going?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he bit.

"Where are we going?!" she screamed, turning heads of other passengers on the bus.

"I want to see it," he admitted in a burst of temper. "Okay? I want to see for myself."

"See what?" she questioned dumbly.

"Your house," he spat. "_Stupid._ I want to see this empty 'shell' with my own eyes."

"What?" she groaned. "You could do that _after _school."

"Not when you started that fucking argument," he hissed, and then he turned and stared her straight in the eyes; she swore she almost saw panic in them.

"I'm going to do one of two things right now," he said softly, like he wasn't really there, and someone was reporting on his own activities while his mind was at the front lines. "It's _gone, _okay? I'm going to go out and find something to _torch_," he murmured, and she reached out and closed her hands tightly around his wrist – _no_, she begged; they were being strong together. Since they had become a couple neither had broken down _once_, and that was longer than either of them had gone for quite a while.

"Or I'm going to your place to fuck you senseless," he finished viciously, and – as hard as she tried not to – she shivered all over.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she whispered; fearful, almost.

"It's _flipped_," he groaned – low and almost pained at the back of his throat. "I can't beat it." Then he looked back at her. "Half of me wants to hit you," he confessed, "but the rest knows that you're the _only thing _that I just might be able to ride it out it with."

"…What?"

"There's a man with a cigarette at this stop," he hissed, and Mikan bolted her head around to see an elderly gentleman lighting a cigarette in his mouth. "The woman three seats behind us has one in her hand." This too was true. "Two men with lighters in their front pockets, a man with a blowtorch doing roadworks two streets ago, a bonfire in a garden a few streets away and..." he hesitated, as he tried to decide how far he'd go, "...one lighter in _my _pocket, two in my bag; this bus smells of fucking diesel and there's a can of lighter fuel in _that _carrier bag." He shot a glance across the aisle to a woman dozing into her hands; the label of the canister was faintly visible through her plastic shopping bag. "It's like they're _screaming _at me," he said, his hands pressing against his forehead. "It's gone, it's just _gone."_

"Natsume..." she begged, frightened of how de-railed he was, "don't do it, _please_ don't do it. We're okay, _we're _stronger than this." 'We', she kept saying 'we', and as his strained temper burnt away, like his self-restraint, he snatched her hands in his and slammed them against the bus window.

He didn't speak, he didn't even _need _to, he just crushed his mouth over hers; reaching into her like his life depended on it.

"_You_ hate me," he muttered darkly as he ripped his mouth away as savagely as he'd applied it. "I fucking hate _you _sometimes."

"That's fine," she rushed hotly, her lips moist and temper just as riled. "Hate me, do whatever, but _don't _let it beat you."

"Why?" he said through gritted teeth. "Why is it so important to you that I don't use it?"

"Because you _can _resist it!" she countered fiercely. "I don't know _everything _about you, but I know that you're strong enough to hold back, I _believe_ you can do it. You stopped me when I thought it was all going to shit, so I _know_ you can do it to yourself. What did you tell me? I... don't remember, but you _can_, Natsume, you really can."

"I...wish I believe you," he growled, and his hand slipped down and gripped her thigh. "But unfortunately you are just about the only person who does think like that... and... I _want _to believe that...and... _shit_, it's just got to be _you_." He reached out desperatly and pulled her onto his lap, clamping his mouth over hers in the process.

One hand ran up her back, underneath her shirt, and the other hand crept up her leg. She stole her mouth away from his after a minute or so, but he could feel her muscles twitching under his touch.

"We're still fighting," she reminded him, her look sour and her voice acidic.

"Agreed," he replied, and yanked her mouth back onto his; tongue already poised to jump past her lips and tangle with her own. She responded in full.

They were so heavily into this pastime that they actually missed the bus stop they needed, and it took half an hour longer than it should have to get to Mikan's house; she'd relented, in the end, not wanting to go to school herself and _needing _to find out what was what with Natsume. She couldn't think about anything else until she had her head straight, and while they were fighting it was harder and harder to concentrate.

Not to mention something _else _that got harder and harder; Natsume was practically feral by the time they reached her house, and after unlocking the door he prowled in and started to explore the place suspiciously, checking every room as if he were a cat staking out his territory.

Mikan stood awkwardly in the hallway her own home, wondering just how much of a good idea this had really been. She didn't have too long to think about it, though, because once Natsume had assured himself that there definitely _weren't _any parentals living there he went straight back to her. He seized her by the shoulders and began to guide her to the bedroom.

"We're still fighting, right?" he asked caustically as he pinned her against her bedroom (or what he assumed was hers, judging by its messy state) door.

"Yes," she replied defiantly, and he drew her into a crushing kiss.

"Good," he retorted, pulling down the handle and giving her a shove into the room; not hard enough to constitute real bullying, but rough enough to let her know who exactly was boss in this situation.

He luckily had the sense to have a couple of condoms in his bag, which he had transferred into his pocket during the bus ride, and they barely even interrupted the flow of sex (after a good deal of practice, while she was still refusing to go on the pill).

That said, he'd stripped Mikan completely ass-naked and gone down on her first anyway – much to his delight he discovered she had much harder and _louder _reactions to oral – and he was quite assured that she'd already come before he even _thought _about taking off any of his school uniform himself.

There was little to no talking throughout the entire thing; except for the occasional 'there' 'higher' 'lower' 'harder' turn of phrases, they barely said three words between them. It was much closer to his old form of sexual encounter, and as they finally fell apart, Mikan shaking simply from what her body had just been through, this very thought occurred to her.

The old fears from before resurrected, and she clutched her duvet around herself worriedly. The old wound rupture open fully as he got up, dragging his boxers on – still silent – and walked out of the room. She heard him go to the bathroom, and she reminded herself not to do something awful like start crying as she heard the running water inside.

Had she blown it? What about what he'd said before? Would he cut and run now, like he always did before? She was unsure, and angry, and sad, and she _did not _want to cry but she could vividly imagine him walking out of the door without saying one thing to her, and she didn't want that enough to make her get up and go to find him.

Before she was even out of the bed he'd burst back in through the door.

"Well?" he said tersely.

"Huh?"

"It's ready."

"What's–?"

"The bath!" he snapped. "What did you think I was doing?" He stared at her accusingly. "You... thought I was splitting, didn't you?" he said dryly.

"_Well_," she murmured, and he simply reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Just get in the freakin' tub," he sighed, steering her towards her destination.

The generous bath in the house's one family bathroom was still filling, but she could see the steam rising off it; seemed he liked them hot.

"Go on," he prodded, removing his boxers again and unhesitatingly sitting down in one end of the western-style tub; apparently its installation had been one of her fathers odd whims when decorating the house, when he was still alive.

"What... is this all about?" she asked worriedly, and he merely pointed at the free end.

"Sit down," he instructed. "We will talk then." She didn't know how else to argue with him, and it did seem like a relatively simple request. She was already naked anyway.

She hissed a little at the heat, but eventually sunk down into the hot water at the opposite to him.

"_So?_" she probed.

"Hmmm," he moaned contently, slipping down further and letting the water lap over his shoulders; she gotten used to seeing him naked quite quickly, circumstances encompassing, and the fact that neither of their states of naked-ness bothered her at all now must say something about them, she hoped.

"You were going to talk!" she blustered. "You were going to talk on the _bus_! You were going to talk when we got in! You could've at least talked while we fucked! Talk to me _now_, Natsume!" she demanded, and his only response was to sigh heavily and close his eyes.

"I want to know about you," he said openly, and she dithered; confused.

"Eh?"

"You said _old _boyfriends never knew everything about you, or the other way around," he remarked languorously, melting into the warm water like hot wax. "Well, I'm not them."

"You?" She still wasn't _quite _sure as to what he he was going on about.

"I want to know everything about you," he stated simply, shifting forwards and then sitting up; water running of his lithe torso and steaming as he leant in to kiss her suddenly. "If it's at all possible.."

"I..." She was taken off guard; she couldn't follow what he was saying. For that matter, why had a hot bath cooled out his temper so much? It was that or the sex, and he had still seemed pretty angry up until now.

"I get mad if you keep things from me," he explained, leaning back again as he _very nearly _read her mind. "Someone like you shouldn't have anything to hide from me, and I'm your boyfriend: I can ask for these sorts of things, right?" He opened one eye to look at her, and she looked around awkwardly.

"I...s'ppose," she murmured, and felt the water level sway as he reached out to grab nearby shampoo. He wanted something to do with his hands; he didn't like to admit it but he was not entirely comfortable, in fact, he was a little nervous. She could reject him at any point now, and he was the one laying out the 'I want to know everything about you's on the table.

"I'm..." he hesitated, the word heavy on his own tongue; this was getting harder and harder for him. "I get _jealous_, okay? Going out every night with people I've never heard of. I get jealous."

"I'm not going to _do _anything with anyone," she sighed.

"That doesn't matter," he explained as he filled his hands with shampoo and rubbed it into his hair; distraction defused _some _of the tension. "I just don't like it; it was like you smacked me square-on with this big 'guess what you're not important enough to me to know' punch." He moved his foot in the water and ran it along her leg subtly. "I'm pissed you never told me about this, but... I've been thinking about it, and I can work with it if you promise me _one _thing."

"What?" she asked curiously, pulling the bottle of shampoo out of his hands when he started to lather his hair and taking control herself; bending his head down as she rooted her fingers around against his scalp, working up a foam with a gentle smile on her face.

"You'll... tone it down," he said quietly, "and spend some nights _in_... with me." She laughed affectionately, and it was one of the nicest sounds he'd ever heard her make - bedroom activities including.

"If you worry," she explained patiently, as she washed his hair, "then you _can _come out with me, you know? In fact,"she said brightly, "I _want _you to, so for every night I spend staying in with you, you have to come on a group outing with me, okay?" He frowned, and then burbled as she ducked his head underwater. He reached out for her hips and slid her towards him, gazing up at her hotly as he broke the surface of the water again.

"I guess I can live with that," he relented, and she pulled his lips forward to meet his.

Sealing the deal with a kiss, or so to speak.

* * *

Angrygoes tohappy. Without the fights no boundaries are placed, and I'm trying to two these two idiots out so I can play around with the other characters too ;)

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Leave a review on your way out please. I keep to a pretty good update schedule, it would be nice to hear some appreciation from people reading every day who haven't reviewed yet.


	22. XXII

I've had re-sits, work and I'm starting work again on my Zidane Tribal cosplay for the London Expo in may, so this was a little while coming, although not so long writing.

Enjoy yo'selves.

* * *

Natsume left the bathroom, walking into the main room with one of Mikan's towels over his head, rubbing his hair dry as he wandered blindly across the floor. Normally a shower or bath was something he'd point blank refuse to share with anyone – and he _had _in the past – but he'd practically _assumed _Mikan would share with him; it was her bath after all.

He was hideously aware that he was getting very comfortable with a level of intimacy he'd never had before, with _anyone_. Not with his parents, and obviously not with any of his old flings. He couldn't place _why_ it was so easy to be with her, but it was. He hadn't just 'not minded' taking a bath with her, it had been his idea, and he'd really wanted to.

He found his way to a chair and sat down, pulling the towel end to end to dry his hair; he heard her, having got out to dry off before him, moving somewhere else in the room, and after a while her hands covered his, taking control.

"You're obsessed with my hair," he sniggered as she roughly towelled it dry for him; eyes downward so the back of his head was angled in her direction.

"Nu-uhh," she denied, rubbing her fingers in circles through the thick material. It was almost as nice as washing his hair had been, which was embarrassingly so; he'd no idea something simple like that could be so... romantic. And he had no idea that he'd ever find something 'romantic' that rewarding.

"You are," he insisted. "You're always touching it and stuff," he teased. "It's a little creepy."

"It's not creepy!" she protested, yanking his head down further and handling him even rougher.

"It is," he retorted, and felt her bump her fist down on the back of her head. He found her body with his hands from under the towel and pulled her towards him.

"Hey!" she squeaked. "I can't dry it like this!"

"Don't care," he muffled under the cloth, squeezing her tightly; his head just below her breasts – he was seated but she was standing. "I thought you liked hugs," he said grumpily.

"I do," she sighed, her hands on the back of his head, fingers still slowly flexing up and down. "I was just trying to do something else."

"That's not my problem," he said shortly, and the material tightened around his neck.

"I should strangle you," she playfully taunted, twisting the ends of the towel until it looked like some kind of full-face hood, or flannel gimp mask.

"You wouldn't have the balls," he baited, voice muffled through the towel over his face. "Take it off." She was half tempted to leave the thing on, but in the end relented and whipped it away from him.

"Hey, who says I was talking about the towel?" he smirked, and she stared down expectantly; she was only wearing a tank-top and cut-off tracksuit bottoms after getting out of the bath.

"Are you ever _not_ horny?" she asked sarcastically, and he reached up, cupping one of her breasts, and flicked the edge of his thumb over her nipple – she wasn't wearing a bra, and he felt a ripple of reaction through her. "Fine," she huffed, pushing the towel down around his shoulders and backing away with a weary sigh. "I'm sorry I asked."

"You're not," he stated bluntly, following her over to a... pile of beanbags. "Beanbags?" he said quizzically.

"Mom took some of the furniture with her to Hokkaido," she explained as she jumped onto the heap and settled herself, only to be immediately unsettled when he followed her, and insisted she sit with or on him. "Beanbags are cheap," she added, "and more comfortable than _you_." She fidgeted and tried to worm away, but it only ended up in a contest of strength, and he inevitably won those.

Not by _that _much though. Tsubasa could carry her around like she was a sack of feathers, which was, if she had to admit it, pretty hot. It had already been proven that Natsume couldn't hold up to that kind of act for very long, if at all. But then again, if she thought about who she was more attracted to, it was still him every time.

He was skinny, smarter than she could ever hope to be, arrogant and although _admittedly_ a pretty good lay, it was in technique rather than brute strength; not particularly attractive in any one way, but -- she didn't know why -- he just got her going.

"Whoa," he gasped as she stuck her hands all the way up the front of his top, reaching all the way up to his chin, and kissed him hard. "Where did that come from?" He didn't sound unappreciative, naturally, but he did seem a little stunned. Normally he was the drive in these sorts of situations.

"I was just..." she mumbled, "thinking about why I like you."

"Oh? Why's that?" he said arrogantly, wincing as she stuck her tongue out and licked the end of his nose.

"I don't know," she admitted, and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh. That's good to know," he replied sarcastically, trying to move but only sinking further into the beanbag. "What the hell is up with this thing!" he snapped, and she laughed. "There's something digging into my back," he berated, arching it awkwardly and further disrupting her 'next'. Mikan sighed and looped her arm around behind him, feeling around for what turned out to be the remote.

"You get used to them," she remarked, turning on the TV out of habit and peddling herself around until she was comfortable, which happened to be stretched out across most of the space with her feet in Natsume's lap.

They slowly broke off from conversation as their attention drifted towards the TV, but after a while Mikan wiggled her feet on top of his legs.

"Give me a foot rub?" she suggested persuasively, and he shot a 'as if' look at first, but then adopted a more thoughtful attitude.

"Hm," he hummed. "I could, I suppose..." as he said this, he drew a hand up the sole of one of her feet – he knew they were clean – and pushed down his thumb right in the middle of the arch. She wiggled her toes appreciatively again.

"Please?" she tried, and he rubbed his hand back down her foot pensively.

"Hm, I guess so... _if_..." he added suddenly, "you give me something in return."

"Eh? What?" she said. "That's so unromantic," she added disdainfully.

"Oh well," he chuckled. "I'll tell you what, I'll massage your feet if..."

"_If_..." she prompted.

"If you give me a blow job," he finished with satisfaction, and Mikan's face fell horribly.

"What?! We just had sex!" she shot.

"I didn't say _now _did I?" he retorted. "I just meant in _general_. I want one in credit."

"Who asks for a blow job _'in general'!" _she wailed. "Who asks for blow job _credit?! _That is not even equal to a foot rub, and I don't even want it that much, I... I was just _saying_." Then his hand was no longer on her foot, but underneath her leg, tucking round just to grip at the more sensitive skin of her inside thigh.

"Com'on," he cajoled; not talking about the foot massage. "I did you, didn't I?"

"I didn't _ask _you to!"

"You did like it though," he retorted lecherously. "You know you did. _I _know you did... the _neighbours _probably know you did." Mikan's face gained a little colour; she hadn't been _screaming _or anything... well, not _that _loud.

She wasn't used to it, she argued to herself; Tsubasa barely ever did it, and Narumi... well, she'd rather not go there.

Natsume, on the other hand, had seemed to like it almost as much as she did. Maybe he was just tripping on the power it gave him. That sounded like him.

"Shut... shut up," she mumbled, and then with a great deal of heaving and manoeuvring he managed to climb across to her, leaning over her imposingly with a knee between her legs; a reminder of his influence over her.

"Don't be embarrassed," he insisted with a smirk. "I know I'm good." She squealed and attempted to get out from underneath him, but it only ended in his lips on her neck and his hands under her vest.

"You are so self-assured," she criticised.

"I know," he said contently, fingers working patterns on her bath-warmed skin. "You still shouldn't be embarrassed; everyone likes sex."

"Mmmn," she whined as she half-did half-didn't want him to stop. "_You_ just like it a lot more than most."

"True," he answered simply. "Speaking of which, how about that blow job?"

"I..." Mikan didn't want to say no. It wasn't like she _hated _it, and it wasn't like she'd never done it before, but it wasn't really her favourite sexual act. By quite a long way.

"Don't be like that," he wheedled.

"I'm just... not _wild _about the whole thing..." she murmured.

"You seemed pretty wild about the _thing_ earlier," he taunted, and she pinched him hard enough to convey that that was _not _what she meant.

"It's just... a pain," she complained, "and what do I even get back from it?... _Don't _say 'cum' either," she snapped, "because I know that's what you're thinking."

"Is that so?" he retorted. "I doubt you'd like the inside of my head if you _really _got in there."

"Eh?"

"Nothing," he brushed the whole thing off as suddenly as he brought it up. "Nothing. _So_," he started up again afresh. "You'll have to do it sooner or later; you'll like it if you do it for me," he insisted, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Why's that?"

"Because it's me," was his one and only argument, and Mikan heaved a sigh.

"We'll _see_," she groaned, and picked up an arm to run through his hair playfully.

"I told you so," he jeered.

"What?"

"My hair; you love it."

"I do not!" she cried. "It's awful! It's always in a complete mess so no _wonder _people think you don't know what a hairbrush is."

"That's why you washed it for me?"

"Of course!" she snapped irately. He smirked in a way that rather reflected himself; _almost _nice but with a hint of a dickhead in there.

He grabbed her hand by the wrist and then rubbed his head against it like a cat, making Mikan laugh. Proving his point or not, it was still amusing.

"We should be in school," she reminded him after glancing at the clock and realizing it was only coming up to lunch time.

"Screw it," he muttered. "I skip all the time."

"You do?" she said in surprise.

"Sure," he said with contempt. "I know most of it anyway, if _they_ (my parents) aren't around to make me and I don't feel like it I'll skip." Mikan was quiet for a few seconds, and then punched him in the chest.

"That is really bad!" she cried. "You should go to school! You need to finish your education!"

"I'm _going _to pass all the exams anyway," he muttered. "A few days off a week doesn't affect my grades." Mikan's face soured.

"Hmph, it affects mine," she murmured. "I don't even skip anyway."

"Even though you don't have anyone to make you?"

"_I _make me," she replied. "I didn't stay here on my own to spend it _here_."

"Oh," he uttered, remembering how she'd said she hated the empty house. However, one particular incident came forwards in his mind. "Oi!" he snapped. "That's not true! What about that time when you didn't come in?"

"Huh? When? I don't skip school," she insisted again.

"It was after... we'd been out," he murmured, trying to remember the incident, and snapping his fingers when it came to him. "After we got drunk, on our," he paused as he placed it, "second date."

"Wait... when?" she said faintly, burrowing back in time to the date. "Oh... oh yeah!" she rushed. "I remember. That... well, _yes_, I didn't go into school, but it wasn't my fault." He shot her a ruinous stare. "It wasn't! I didn't even wake up until two in the afternoon; by the time I'd gotten ready and taken the train there wouldn't have been any point."

It was Natsume's turn to raise his eyebrows at her.

"Look! I don't skip school just because I don't feel like it, so it _counts_," she argued.

"Fine, okay," he relented, rolling over to lie on his back. "I'm not going in today, though."

She sighed. "I know, I guessed." He could hear the squeak of her moving, and then she said, "I don't feel like spending time after school with _that _guy either." He tried to re-shuffle to put his arms around her – sharing hatred and an understanding of what was so awful about him, something he didn't have with other people – but he elbowed the remote control by accident and turned up the volume on the TV too loud.

"Ah! Turn that shit down!" she cursed, and then as he struggled to carry out her orders she realized she was very hungry. Arguments, sex and beanbag wrestling take it out of a person.

"What do you want for lunch?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Lunch, _lunch_, what you do want to eat?" she repeated as if he was stupid, and it finally hit him.

"Alright," he snapped. "You don't have to say it like _that_." With a loud groan she got up from the beanbag heap, and walked barefoot over to her kitchen.

"There's not much food in here," she called out to him as she peered into the fridge.

"Get a takeaway then!" he shouted back.

"No!" she insisted. "It's too expensive! I'll make... stew or something. There's enough crap in here to boil."

"Sounds delicious!" he shouted back sarcastically, getting up himself and trying to find out how to turn off the TV. He put the remote on top of the set and pursued her into the kitchen.

"You know what _you _do that's creepy?" she informed him. "Follow me around like a dog."

"A cat," he insisted. "I'll come and go as I please."

"Sure," she quipped disbelievingly.

"Really, I am," he replied seriously. "Ruka's... good with that sort of stuff."

"Huh?" she said curiously.

"He... like, he sees people as animals a lot of the time; that's how he understands us. He says I'm a cat."

"Is that his...?"

"Yes." The conversation needed no naming; all was understood.

"He might have something in common with Sumire, then," she remarked after a little while, and when Natsume looked at her to elaborate she added, "She's a cat-dog type. You should see her when she's triggered."

"Mhm?"

"You've never seen a catfight until you've seen Sumire in a catfight," she laughed, and she spotted a creasing smile on him, as she dumped leftover vegetable soup and stock cubes in a pot and poured a kettle of water on top.

"What class is she?" he asked tentatively, leaning back against the side and enjoying the sensation of being cooked for.

"Mild," Mikan answered. "Most of the time it all goes on inside for her. She not..." she breathed in disappointment at herself, "_like _us."

His hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips met the back of her ear.

"There's nothing wrong with us," he murmured hopefully, "right?" She hesitated, but she knew it was each other's influence that had brought them to this point – before... _before_, they wouldn't have said they were normal without thinking themselves complete liars. But now they could almost believe it. Like _this _they could.

"Yeah," she whispered warmly, "right." She turned around, and they kissed over the stove. He didn't even care about the gas flame burning a little way behind them, it was nothing to him; when _she _was here it posed no more of a threat than the roof suddenly collapsing did.

He was _safe_.

"So?" she questioned intensely. "What do you think?"

Natsume sipped his everything-and-something stew with a cautious expression.

"It's... _different_," he said ambiguously, and she kicked him under the table.

"I bet you can't even cook," she taunted.

"No," he replied coldly, and she suddenly realized her mistake. Of _course _not. Let an Alice of Fire near a cooker?

"Sorry," she rushed, "I didn't mean anything by it–"

"It's okay," he said quietly. "Whatever. No big deal."

"_Natsume_," she said a little more insistently. "Over here?" He glanced at her. "Sorry," she told him firmly, and she could see it sinking in a little better than the first one.

"It's fine," he repeated, blinking slowly and taking a deep breath, like he'd forgotten to do it before.

They ate the mystery lunch quietly, but not abrasively, and as she took their bowls back to the kitchen Mikan stopped behind Natsume to throw her arms around him and hug him tightly. He laid his hand over her crossed forearms and let himself enjoy the moment.

How had he come to this? So much, and so quickly, but even as he progressed he couldn't wait to be shot of the self he was leaving behind. With her, he was the kind of person he almost liked being, someone who was _real_; something proper in this fake-shit world. He was not going to let that go.

It could be said, in that respect, that he was the one who saw it coming third.

* * *

Ta-da! Dossing around the house.

Here's a question, I've been considering how I might make this a piece of Original Fiction, and what I want to know is would you readers like/be interested in a piece of original fiction based on this fanfiction? It would have slightly different names, places, characters and probably different plot devices, but quite a lot of how this goes would be how _it _goes. Or something.

Let me know what you think, or just leave a review for the chapter :)


	23. XXIII

I'm busy busy busy right now, so I'm sad to say the update speed will probably gain a day on average :( If I could update daily I would, but nothing lasts forever, and I have an exam on monday _plus _loads of work, _plus _a real job.

Tailored to be so after some reviews asking about the lack of other characters :D I'm doing my best.

* * *

That was the first time either of them had spent the night with someone. For Mikan, Tsubasa had parents who did not approve of her staying over, and her mom didn't like him for some reasons and refused to let him stay around for more than a couple of hours at a time. Her other boyfriends had been much the same story, and Narumi was a difficult case... technically she'd been there for entire nights, but there was never any real sense of 'sleeping together' in the REM sense of the word.

Natsume, of course, had always left of his own means, but not that night.

The afternoon had seemed shorter than it was; watching TV, a walk down to the pharmacy to buy more condoms – she was still hesitant to commit to the pill, plus the clinic was even further away – and a run through the convenience store next door to buy something to eat later that evening. Everything seemed to feel like less time together, but actually took up more.

When they got back they listened to an irate message left by an Academy truancy officer informing 'Ms. Sakura' that she had not reported Mikan as sick that day, had a laugh over it and then deleted it. Sumire called next demanding to know where Mikan had been.

"Sorry, girl," Mikan apologised. "I had this _massive _argument with him this morning; he flipped out, I flipped out, we walked out of school screaming at each other and… yeah, back at home... yes, my home... yes, he knows. Natsume, stop!" she squealed as he blew behind her ears and lightly kissed her neck, trying to distract her and stop her paying attention to someone other than himself. "He's being a pain… no we're fine now…. I _know_, I'll tell you about it sometime…. No, he's not around, I'm not sure what the deal is… well yeah… I've got tutoring and then we _were _gonna hit up his, but…" She looked at Natsume, who pointed down to the floor and mouthed something. "Yeah, we might as well just hang out here…. Na, he'll have to sit tight won't he? I think Nogi lives around here somewhere anyway. Yeah! I know."

Natsume stopped listening at this point, and took a second tour of the house as Mikan nattered to her friend. The room they'd 'christened' was, from what he could gather, the master bedroom; Mikan was obviously using it, although he gathered it must have been her mom's before – more proof that she really was the only resident. The bathroom had already been inspected, as had the main room; corner with the beanbags and TV with an open corridor into a little kitchen; table out the other end of the galley, in a room that looked like it was an old storage room, though it was practically empty now.

Then there was what must have been Mikan's old room, which was much less interesting than he'd hoped. She must have moved most of her things over, because there was just a single bed and chest of drawers in there. The bed was stripped and the drawers empty, although a few posters of bands he'd never heard of remained on the wall opposite the door.

He knew he shouldn't have expected to find a diary, or a photo, or _something _interesting in a room that was no longer used, but he had hoped. He realized that anything of interest would probably be in the main room, so he returned to it – taking note of the fact that she was _still _talking on the way – and began to look around.

She wasn't tidy – clothes, makeup and jewellery hung over every flat surface – but it wasn't _disgusting_, per se. He found a picture on the windowsill of what must be a younger Mikan and her mother, who was quite pretty, if a bit 'not-quite-there-looking', although she did look a lot like Mikan (or the other way round, but he knew her first so that was how he saw it), and a picture further down, next to a little candle, of what must be her late father.

He looked…

Nothing. What was someone like him supposed to make of that kind of picture? He looked normal; smiling, and it was probably taken before Mikan was born. Looking at his hands, it was probably taken before they were married – no wedding ring.

"What are you doing?!" Mikan called in from the main room. "I'm off the phone now."

"Bedroom," was his returning instruction, and she found him still looking at the pictures on the windowsill.

"You snooping around?" she said critically, and he shrugged.

"Just looking," he said shortly. "That you as a baby?" He pointed to a photo of her mom looking tired and surprisingly _young _in a hospital gown with a tiny child in her arms. Her dad must have been taking the picture.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Looks young."

"I'm only an hour old, duh." She laughed softly, and came a little closer.

"Your _mom_," he emphasised.

"Ohhh, I see. Yes. She was," she said. "She wanted to go to university, but… well; it's not easy with a baby."

"Mmm," he hummed. "Was that, uh…on the…" He made a phone motion with one of his hands.

"Sumire," Mikan suggested acidly. "Yes. You know you _should_ be able to remember her name. After what you…" Mikan admitted to herself that she _was _a little bitter about her boyfriend having had a fling with her best friend, but she tried not to let it matter too much. He was with her now.

Mikan heard her phone ringing again in the far room, and saw Natsume roll his eyes.

"Whatever," she scoffed, running out to go and answer it. Sumire had probably forgotten something.

"Explosion. Lab broken. Unpredictable variables of accelerating the process at high temperatures Kelvin. Ten minutes." A cold, empty voice said down the phone; string of broken parts of sentences without anything to pull them together.

"Huh?" Mikan gawped. "Wait, who's this?"

"I will not repeat myself," she said, and then the phone hung up.

"Hotaru?" Mikan cried down the phone. "Hey! Don't go yet! What do you mean 'explosion'?!" It wasn't like Hotaru to make unnecessary phone calls of nonsense – it was unlikely for Hotaru to make unnecessary _anythings_.

However, Mikan could not work out what it meant, and if she called back she'd be unlikely to get an answer, so she wrote it off and decided to ask her about it later that day when she went for tutoring.

"Oh, that remind me," she said conversationally as she walked back into the bedroom, where Natsume was still looking through her stuff. "I've got my tutor today, so I'll be away for, like, an hour or two." He frowned.

"What?" he said petulantly. "I though we were hanging out here."

"_Tonight_, we;d made plans for the evening, and we've been together all afternoon," she remarked. "I've got to see her. I won't get into a university if I don't get tutoring."

"_I_ could do it," he commented dryly, and she gave him an interested look.

"Yeah?"

"I'm top of the school, aren't I? It's all so easy to understand, I don't get how people _don't _get it."

"Because not _all _people are smart like you!" she retorted viciously.

"Bullshit," he shot back. "You're plenty smart."

"Eh?" she said, surprised. "What do you mean."

"I don't spend time with stupid people," he explained patiently. "Maybe you don't have good grades, but you're not a complete idiot."

"I'm not, am I?" she joshed. "What about all those times you called me stupid?"

"Stupid for different reasons," he said in an offhand way. "What do you need to know?"

"Look," she sighed, "it's _everything _I don't get. Even when I think I _do _get it, actually I've usually got it wrong. Besides, Hotaru is my best friend; we've known each other for years, I like seeing her. Tutoring works, otherwise she probably wouldn't make any time to see me."

"Why not?" he queried.

"She…finds people hard to understand. She doesn't really 'get' friendship, or other stuff… if I didn't have a reason to see her, then she wouldn't make time because she can't understand why I'd want to see her for no reason…"

"Wait, has she got an Alice?" he asked; quickly putting together the puzzle pieces.

"Yeah."

"She's not in the school, though?"

"No, she's a very introverted type, so she got special permission to go to a normal school." She gave Natsume a look – he was probably clever enough to get a placement like Hotaru, but hell knows he wasn't safe enough.

"Ohh." He finally understood. "What's her type?"

"Technology," Mikan replied. "Tag _savantism, _well, autism too."

"Oh," he said again. All good Alices came at a high price. Most people who knew anything about Alices had heard of Autism. "That's why she's…?"

"Yeah," Mikan replied. "But she's my best friend, and I love her. I'm always going to be her friend. Even if she doesn't want me too." Natsume's will crumpled, and he gave her a 'come here' gesture, which led into a tight embrace. He didn't say it, but he wished for a moment that he could be someone like that to her. How pathetic did he sound right now?

"Well, there's also some other stuff. Aspergers sometimes comes up, but she goes from low to high-function every once in a while… she puzzles people, I guess." Natsume still had his arms around her, and was reluctant to let her go.

"I wouldn't mind meeting someone like that," he remarked casually, and he felt her bristle.

"She's not good with strangers… and _you _would completely baffle her." He chuckled, a smooth sound that resonated in her body, pressed to his.

"She sounds different to your normal type of friend," he said, and Mikan tensed up.

"You should _drop _that line some time," she said coldly. "I'm getting sick of it."

"I never said there was anything _wrong _with them, did I?" he sniped. "Just that she sounds different."

"Well she is different!" Mikan snapped, trying to get away. However, Natsume persisted and managed to back her onto the bed, where he pushed her down and stared straight at her, forcing her to make eye contact with him.

"I'm not trying to piss you off," he said slowly. "So _don't_ take it like that."

She didn't want to argue, she definitely didn't want to argue. So she did something else instead. Which led onto some more 'something else's.

"I think you should go on the pill," Natsume murmured in her ear between kisses; one hand inside her tracksuit bottoms and the other pushing up her tank top.

"Mmmmn," she sounded indecisively between a moan and a whinge. She was still reluctant to commit to that, and there were some other things she wanted to bring up before she gave in on this point. She was just waiting for a good opportunity to mention it; now not being one.

"Ugh, you are such a pain," he grunted, but carried on anyway. After all, what was the point in a free house if you couldn't have spontaneous sex in it?

However, before they actually got anywhere near the act, a chime interrupted their attempted coitus.

"What the fuck is that?" Natsume growled, and Mikan paused for a moment as she worked it out.

"Shit! It's the doorbell!" she cried, zipping up, arranging her clothing into a more respectable state and dashing out of the room. Natsume was _not _best pleased.

"Hello? I'm sorry I don't want to buy anything toda…Hotaru!" Mikan yelped, as the dark-haired girl stood calmly outside her door, the car that brought her purring quietly on the road behind her.

"I am five minutes late," she said carefully. "There were roadworks on the A16 road that delayed the car journey. I had not forseen them on the satellite navigation. Their system has flaws."

"I see. But… why are you here?" she asked in confusion. "You did call me earlier, right?"

"Yes," Hotaru replied. "I explained. There was an explosion in my laboratory and…"

"Explosion?!" Mikan gasped. "Are you okay? Seriously?! Hotaru, did you get hurt?"

"It took place last night, I was not present," was the cold-as-always answer. "I am unharmed." She looked at Mikan. "You are…?" she said curiously as she tried to read Mikan's expression.

"Happy, I'm happy, Hotaru," Mikan said effortlessly. "I am glad that you aren't hurt. It would make me upset if you were." Hotaru stared at Mikan for a moment.

"I understand," she said confidantly. "I would not be able to tutor you if I were injured."

"No," Mikan laughed. "I am happy that you are safe because you are my friend," Mikan reached out, grabbing her hand – something few other people could do – and invited her inside.

"I am here for our scheduled tutoring session," Hotaru explained. "There are repairmen in my house. I do not like them, and we cannot work with the distraction." Inside the house Hotaru heard the sounds of Natsume sulking about his failed efforts in the next room. "Is there someone here?"

"I… I didn't expect you, Hotaru," Mikan explained shakily as she suddenly realized the situation; seeing Hotaru had made her forget Natsume was here. "I didn't realize you were coming _here_."

"Where else would I go?" she asked curiously, and Mikan prayed Natsume would stay out of sight for just another minute longer.

"Well, I know, but I didn't think about that," Mikan tried to explain. "So, well, you see…"

"Someone is here," Hotaru observed. "I can hear them."

"It's… Natsume," she finally admitted.

"Natsume; your boyfriend?" she questioned.

"Yes," Mikan replied. "Today is the first time he's come to my house; what bad luck, eh?" she joked.

"There is no such thing as luck," Hotaru remarked, and it was around then that Natsume walked into the main room, slightly less grumpy than before, but still a little jaded at the interruption. "Oh," Hotaru gasped, and Natsume turned to stare at her.

"Well…" Mikan laughed with fake enthusiasm. "You remember what you said earlier? Well, this is Hotaru." She reached out and grabbed the girl's hand again, squeezing it affectionately. "My best friend."

"Ah," Natsume made a soft sound in the back of his throat, and stopped still as he looked at Hotaru. She did not meet his eyes, but he hadn't expected her to.

"He is here, Mikan," Hotaru said quietly. "Why is he here? He is _here_, Mikan," she repeated – 'she did not repeat herself' – and Mikan knew her levels of stress were rising. She didn't react well to strangers, and was nothing like the girl she really was when she was relaxed.

"This is… the first time I have been here," Natsume announced, his voice calm as he could make it. "I am not… familiar… with this place at all." He wasn't sure if he was doing anything right, but he was at least trying to make it clear that he wasn't moving in on anyone's territory. "It is good to meet you, Hotaru-san," he said evenly.

"Natsume is…" Mikan struggled for words. "Natsume's…"

"Mikan told me you're at a good school," Natsume said helpfully.

"I…" Hotaru clipped icily. "I gained a scholarship," she muttered quickly, directing her speech largely at Mikan, even though she already knew this.

"Natsume is very smart too," Mikan commented hopefully. "He reads a lot of… oh yes! He works at the school library," she said excitedly. "He knows about all the books you ask me to get out."

At this Hotaru flicked a glance towards Natsume; not anywhere near his face, but in his direction.

"I've read most of them," he said. "The ones at the back, at least," he added, "the _good _ones."

Hotaru was quiet for a while. "Have you read '_Nanotechnology; Ethics, Risks and Law_'?" She asked spontaneously, this time clearly to Natsume, as it was common knowledge that Mikan obviously wouldn't have.

Natsume mouthed the words of the title, recalling the book and writer. "Yes," he finally answered. "I have." All at once, he was in.

Mikan oversaw the conversation anxiously. This was the first time Hotaru had ever gone from not knowing someone to speaking and actually paying attention to someone in less than a day. In less than an _hour_.

Natsume was talking about her favourite subject, though, and he appeared to know something about it himself, and Hotaru had not met anyone else who did before. Natsume was also doing his best not to be a complete ass, demonstrating some level of respect for Hotaru's Alice. He also even seemed to be enjoying the conversation as well, although Mikan could barely tell. It was so far over her head she couldn't even _see _it.

She was asleep in no time.

"In the field of medicine, which my friend is interested in, the potential is astounding," Natsume said. "It is no more electronics than a combination of molecules; the things that could be treated with…"

"Technology will make the further jump," Hotaru corrected, and Natsume smirked at her straightforward way of 'informing' him that he was wrong. "Robotics on a level that cannot even be seen. Millions of tiny nanobots working simultaneous…" she trailed off, glancing at Mikan, who had long since curled up on Natsume's side and lost interest. "She is asleep."

"Who? Oh! Her," Natsume muttered, and looked down at the slumbering girl on his side. He smiled. "It's only five o'clock," he said mirthfully.

"She frequently falls asleep at inappropriate hours of the day," Hotoaru announced. "She is the most quiet then." Natsume laughed quietly.

"True, Hotaru-san," he said, raising a hand to draw hair away from her face. She looked stupidly cute asleep. "I love it when she does this," he said without really filtering it properly, and Hotaru's expression became intensely thoughtful.

"Why?"

"She…" he wanted to answer her, but he didn't quite know how, "well, she… looks so cute," he mumbled. "Mikan," he called softly, craning his head down to kiss her cheek; his hand gently cradling her jaw. "Mikan," he whispered, and slowly her eyes flittered open.

"Huh?" she murmured groggily.

"We'll stop talking about complicated things," he offered teasingly. "You fell asleep," he added on, in case she hadn't realised that she'd done that.

"Oh, _oh_," she moaned, stretching and sighing heavily. Hotaru simply watched them very carefully.

"I have to go now," Hotaru announced, checking her watch.

"Huh? Wait, but Hotaru!" Mikan cried. "We didn't even do any work! We didn't even get to talk!" Natsume chuckled beside her.

"You were asleep, dummy," Hotaru said. "I have another appointment to go to." The doorbell rang. "That will be my car." She stood up and brushed down her skirt. "Goodbye." Mikan struggled up and jumped toward her to give her a hug.

"But _Hotaru!"_ Mikan wailed, and with one swift movement Hotaru hit her upside her head and pushed her away.

"It is not my fault you fell asleep, idiot," she said calmly, and then almost within the same breath said, "He is a good person. He thinks you are cute." Mikan reeled back for a moment, and then picked up.

"You… like him, then?" she asked timidly, and Hotaru nodded.

"He is inconsistent with his reputation," she remarked, "but I 'like' him. He is intelligent, and not annoying." It was Mikan's turn to nod this time, although the point about his not being 'annoying' was a debatable point.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she said meekly.

"I spoke to Natsume-san," Hotaru replied. "I did not mind." She turned around and started walking towards the door; Mikan followed and hugged her again.

"Bye, Hotaru-san," Natsume called from his seat in the beanbags, raising a hand in a farewell gesture. "I would like to continue that conversation sometime." Hotaru smiled, genuinely smiled, and said goodbye.

"How did you _do _that?!" Mikan burst as soon as the door closed.

"What?" he retorted incredulously. "I didn't do anything."

"Anything, you didn't do 'anything'," Mikan flung back at him. "That's the first time she's _ever _been like that with someone so quickly."

"We just talked technology," he said defensively. "She knows a _lot _about all of that; maybe having someone to talk to about it was all she needed." He was quiet, thinking carefully on his words. "Maybe there's nothing wrong with her at all, maybe she's just a little different."

"Yeah… well…" Mikan murmured; 'normal' talk was dangerous talk as far as Alices were concerned. However, she didn't have much of an opportunity to follow things up, because before she was aware of what was what, she was being swung around by the hand – like a hammer-throw – and landing on the beanbag pile.

Then before she knew what was when he was on top of her; hot and heavy.

"Now where were we?" he murmured lewdly as his hands swept her top up past her ribs, and with a natural movement on her part was shrugged off completely.

"I think I remember," she giggled, as his hair tickled her neck while his mouth picked downwards toward her chest. Thank god for a guy who appreciated foreplay, she thought to herself, as his warm tongue circled one of her breasts.

Hotaru heard the squeals and giggles as she stood outside the door, and it could be said, all things respecting – even though she couldn't quite understand it as a concept herself – that _she _saw it coming fourth.

* * *

Hotaru is a little different, because I'm trying to balance the not-all_-that-_cold her in canon with a proper representation of an autism/aspergers type. I've been doing research, but I'm not confidant in the character blend now. If this became OF Hotaru would be presented in a very different format :D That's not this though, so it comes as is.

Leave a review please! I finally got past 300 :D This is now my most-reviewed fic, and the one with the most words too, lol.


	24. XXIV

Updated! Okay, for 'Konnie', who reviews but is anon so I can't reply (if you made an account I could actually answer your questions, but there's no point asking as anon because there's nothing I can do), and other people mentioning Hotaru last chapter, she _is _kinda ooc, but that is because I have tried to blend her character with a medically accurate representation of someone with autism. I've tried to make her quite high-level autistic while retaining as much of her character as I can, but more will become obvious about her as she re-enters the story. If you don't like ooc-ness why are you reading this story? It's AU and has very weak ties to canon.

This chapter finally takes us overthe 80k mark, woo! It's odd because it doesn't feel like that much, but I guess it is. :P

This chapter is a bit mismatched, because it's more a combination of several scenes I needed to have and a time skip rather than a writes-it-itself-ish chapter of pure N/M interaction.

Anyway, I hope you like it either way.

* * *

Mikan and Natsume went to bed early that night... although it was _not_ necessarily for the purposes of sleep. Part of it was curiosity; they'd already gone over the fact that Natsume had decided he did not need to go home, call his parents _or _let them know what was going on, and would instead stay here without so much as a word to anyone. A vicious row was had in which Mikan tried to persuade him otherwise took place, but she had no such luck. Natsume was staying the night, and that was final.

They called it a day when they finally got bored of television and talking – talking could be done when there _wasn't _a spacious double bed just begging to be fucked on, or in. It was the third time they'd had sex that day, but it only seemed to reinforce the concept that no matter _how _many times they did it, it would still be _very _good.

Natsume had never realized how many different types of 'good' there were, though. He'd grown accustomed to one 'genre' of fucking, _his _style, but the more he had sex with Mikan - just for its own purpose - the closer he was to romanticism, gentleness... _not _just hammering away at it hard and fast until they both collapsed from pleasure and/or exhaustion.

This most recent time was the farthest from this yet; although, he was still tired enough to fall asleep right after – he barely even noticed Mikan wrapping her arms around him and moulding into the contours of his body; it just felt normal, if a little sleep-muddled.

As she settled down to sleep, Mikan felt Natsume's breath slow, and the immense heat that always radiated off him drew her into him like a moth. Normally she slept with pyjama bottoms and a nightdress on, because a double bed – although comfortable – was hard to keep warm with just one small body. However, with Natsume 'better than a hot water bottle' next to her the temperature became quite comfortable.

She also wasn't used to sharing a bed, not with someone she was in a relationship with, at least, and the feeling of having sex and then just curling up to sleep was foreign and instantly likeable. She held him close and tangled arms and legs together, skin against skin, until she could feel his heartbeat as strongly as she felt her own, and his breath was close enough to softly disturb a few stray hairs in her fringe with each exhalation.

It was only a day they'd spend together, but it had been a _long_ day, and a _nice _day. She fell asleep not long after he did.

When Mikan woke up, it was to some curious sensations; mostly because she had managed to forget for the moment she was sharing the bed with her boyfriend – this being the first time such a thing had happened – so she was startled at first by the knee pressing hard between her legs and the hot mouth sucking up and down her neck.

"Huh?" she murmured groggily; drowsy and confused from sleep, but instinctively moving against his leg in pursuit of stimulation. She realized what was going on when his lips captured hers in a familiar kiss. "Oh," she gasped as they drew apart for a breath, and she ground herself harder against his thigh. "I see."

She had no idea what time it was, why he was awake or what had even _started _this, but the situation was what it was, and in spite of their being half-asleep it was possibly the best sex they'd had yet; straightforward and unhampered by anything; intimate, fulfilling and hugging orgasm like a familiar old friend -- possessing the entire body and soul.

He didn't say much... in fact, he didn't say _anything_. Not with words, at least. He told her plenty with actions; a touch for arousal, a squeeze of direction, an embrace of gratification, and a kiss goodnight at the end: she read them easily enough. Body language was all they needed in the middle of the night, in the dark, like this. This was also the first time they'd slept together in absolute darkness, and without the visuals everything felt more intense - clumiser, as a hand missed the mark or a shift of position caused them to bump together by accident - but without sight everything else, the touches, the smells, the _sounds_, became more vivid, and even more of a turn-on.

She eventually fell asleep again on top of his chest, warm and lightly sweating, but content and _not alone_. She couldn't be alone now if she tried, and she hadn't felt so safe in quite a while.

However, in the morning things were not so romantic.

"Shit!" Mikan screamed as she sat up in bed after making out the time on her clock. "I'm late!"

"What the fuck?" Natsume groaned beside her, and she did a sudden double-take before she remembered what the hell a naked guy was doing in her bed.

"Late! We're going to be late!" she cried, jumping out of bed – naked as she'd slept – and started to run around the room.

"Then just be late..." Natsume retorted, but lost coherence as he noticed his rather attractive girlfriend running naked around the room. "Hey," he muttered suggestively, "come back to bed."

"Are you crazy!?" she screeched, practically jumping into her underwear and starting to drag him out of the bed by an arm. "I skipped yesterday; that gets us in enough trouble. The least we can do is get to school on time!" Natsume smirked and rolled away from her; propping his face up on one hand and watching her dash about like a headless chicken.

He wondered briefly what it might be like if this was a permanent thing, if he was _always _here. With this place around there'd never even be a need for her to move out if they wanted live together, he could just move _in_. On the other hand, this was the first time they'd ever spent more than a few hours together, and _early days _still, so he warned himself not to go so fast. The opportunity was there, but one good day did not a domestic haven make.

Neither did screaming girlfriends throwing things at him either.

"Where did you leave your clothes!?" she accused, as she threw balled-up socks and CD cases at him to encourage him out of bed.

"Uh, somewhere," he replied bluntly, and a few squabbles over the length of her skirt, the smell of his day-old shirt (once they'd _found _it under the bed), and whether they had time to eat breakfast later, Mikan and Natsume left the house.

"It's almost like you live here or something," she joked as she locked the door and ran down the path with him, and he went very quiet. Had she been thinking the same things he was?

"Hn," he grunted.

"What? It was just a joke, Natsume," she said cheerfully. "It's just weird to wake up with someone and go to school together."

"There's nothing wrong with it," he muttered, and she laughed and put her hand on his arm soothingly.

"'Course not. It was really nice. But I'm sure we'd end up hating each other if you _actually..." _she started, and then petered off as they both tried to comprehend the situation. Would they hate each other? Would it ruin everything? What about what she was going to say about him _moving in?_

He couldn't say, but he knew one thing. So he grabbed her by the shoulder and wrapped her up in a hot, morning-scented kiss. Spending a day together meant that the individual tastes and traits of each other were fading, and it was more of a convoluted mix of both of them. Eventually Mikan pushed him off, reminded them again that they were late and then promptly threw herself back into his arms; her lips hungry for his and their tongues lashing out desperately for more contact.

"Why can't I get enough of you?" Natsume murmured as the flash of passion passed, and Mikan shrugged as she dried her mouth on her hand.

"I could say the same," she replied. "Still. We are going to be _so _late now, so be prepared to run."

"What?" was all Natsume had time to say before she started to sprint away, and he struggled to keep up with her.

At least they got the chance to be pressed together on the train, and Mikan didn't have to worry about being surreptitiously molested in the cram anymore, because with a guy's tongue half way down her throat people tended to get the message that she was spoken for.

They noticed a few looks being sent their way as they walked into school, ranging from suspicious to somehow-all-knowing, but they didn't really give anything much regard until one of the teachers caught sight of them.

"Hyuuga?" the teacher cried. "Is that him? Yes, it is!" He turned around to talk to someone inside. "He's here!" he bellowed. "Call his parents now!"

"Huh?" Mikan made a confused sound as Natsume walked a step closer to her, so she could feel his warmth through her shirt. "What's going on?"

Another teacher dashed out to see if the first teacher was right, and stopped dead when he saw Natsume.

For the first time in his life, Natsume's parents had called him in as missing when he didn't come home – largely because they had called in at Ruka's place in the morning but discovered that their son had not stayed with them that night, but also because they had their suspicions about where he _was_.

Of all the times they could decide to suddenly care about the whereabouts of their son, they had decided it would coincidentally be when he was with Mikan.

"What the fuck is this?" he muttered as someone rushed up to him, with a phone on one ear and a handful of paperwork in the other, and insisted to the person on the other end of the line that it was _definitely _him.

Natsume was in trouble. A _lot _of trouble.

* * *

"Just _how _were we supposed to know where you were?!" his mother screeched.

"I don't know," Natsume grunted. "I don't care, either" he added under his breath.

"Where were you?" his father demanded.

"What does that matter?" he retorted viciously.

"Answer your father!" his mother shouted.

"I was with Mikan, okay!" he snarled, and he saw the triumphant look passing between his parents.

"Mikan?" they echoed.

"Yes, my girlfriend, I believe you know her," Natsume said bitterly.

"We forbade you from seeing _that girl_," his mother announced icily.

"No, you said you 'didn't approve'," he quoted, "and I don't give a shit about your approval, so I ignored you."

"You should show more respect towards us!" his father snapped.

"You should show more respect towards _her_!" he retorted. "You don't know her at all, but you've taken into your heads that she's not good enough. Well _I _care about her, and it's probably a lot more than either of you care about me," he growled, and then stormed off to his room. He always seemed to say too much about how he felt when he was with his parents - things he didn't tell Mikan.

"That is a lie!" they called after him. "We are your parents, Natsume!"

"I wish you _weren't," _he muttered angrily to himself, stamping hard on the steps as he climbed the stairs.

In response to this argument, and the many more that preceded and followed it, it was decided that if Natsume would not stop seeing Mikan of his own accord, they would simply ground him, and it was a week of full agony – only able to see each other at school – before Natsume managed to spring a leak in their defences.

He'd been calling Mikan almost every night on the phone, but it just wasn't the same.

_"Sorry this sucks so much," _he said one evening.

"_It's not your fault if your parents hate me," _she replied sadly.

"_It doesn't matter," _he argued. _"I like you; that's the only thing that matters."_

"_I wish I could believe you..."_

"_Do."_

"_I... I can...I'dunno..."_

"_..."_

"_Ah, I can't do this stupid problem!"_

"_Are you doing work?"_

"_Yes. Exams are soon, in a way it's not so bad we can't go out, because at least then I'm more likely to stay in to revise."_

"_You're not going out?"_

"_Not without you. Well, not every night... I know how it makes you feel" _He was quietly appreciative and just a little adoring with this remark.

"_What are you stuck on?"_

"_A math problem."_

"_Is it in the text-book?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Wait, I think I have that somewhere... ah! Here it is."_

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Which one is it?"_

"_Uh, page 294. What are you doing?"_

"_It's probably something easy you're stuck on... these all look pretty straightforward."_

"_Numbers make my head spin, okay?!"_

"_Hey! I'm trying to help you here!"_

"_Oh, yeah... sorry."_

"_Which one?"_

"_The third."_

"_Oh... easy. You just need to..."_

This was actually how Natsume started tutoring Mikan in the end, because denied physical meetings they had resorted to indirect ways to talk, and if she was going to do classwork while they chatted he might as well help her with it – he was right, because it usually was something simple that she was missing anyway, and although they ended up in rows a few times, he was more of a help than a hindrance at the end of the day.

However, after a week of grounding, and it wasn't even as if he could sneak out when they were out of the house, because his parents had taken to putting on the deadlock on the outside door when they left so he was effectively locked in, Natsume managed to find a chink in his prison. Helping Mikan with her homework was one thing, but he'd really much rather be having sex with her.

* * *

"Hey," he rushed, in his muted version of excitement, as he tackled Mikan in a hallway and almost sucked her face off walking between lessons – a week without any opportunities for sex was beginning to wind him up, and their public displays of affection were escalating more and more.

"Hey," she echoed, the focus of their interaction not being what they said, and more appropriately what they were doing; Mikan was also beginning to crave him in that way too, even if she wasn't as open to admit it as he was. "I've got a plan."

"You have?" she replied with a grin. "What sort of plan is that?"

"I'm allowed out with 'Ruka' tonight," he explained, with the kind of light in his eyes that meant he was genuinely excited, "but you're coming too."

"Am I?" she said presumptively. "I have plans though, me and Sumrie were going to go to..." She had a brainwave, and broke out into laughter. "Oh!" she squealed. "Perfect! You and Ruka come out with me tonight, okay? Some of us are going to a live music house to hear a band."

"Some of us?" he inquired. "Sumire?" He had, at last, remembered her name; however, the way in which he said it was less than encouraging.

"Well... yes," Mikan replied - she could hold up the deal she made with Sumire now. "She's my best friend after all. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"She's into Ruka," he stated plainly, and Mikan jumped in surprise.

"What?!" she squawked. "How would you know something like that?!" He sighed, and released her from his hold.

"It was the reason she approached me... _back then_," he said coolly. "It was obvious, even then. That's how I used her." Mikan scowled – 'back then' was still a sore point with her.

"Well..." she muttered. "That was a long time ago. You want to see me, don't you?" He didn't reply, just glared at her for asking such a stupid question. "Yeah. Well, that was what I've got planned, so if you're allowed out then you have to come too." Her face brightened up a little. "Do you remember the deal? I've been staying in talking to you for ages so you definitely owe a trip out with _other_ _people_." This much was true, and Natsume had promised her some attempts to socalise with other people.

"You say it like I never do it," he murmured resentfully.

"You don't," she teased, pouncing on him for a quick kiss before they got too late for lessons. "But come, okay? We're gonna meet by the station at eight or something. Tell Ruka, he could use going out more as well anyway." She winked cheekily and then dashed off, and Natsume heaved a sigh and started to plan how he'd sell this thing to Ruka.

* * *

"Fine," said Ruka before Natsume had even finished his efforts at persuasion. "I'll do it."

"Huh? That easily?" he said curiously.

"It means you'll get a chance to see your girl, right?" Ruka said plainly. "I'm your friend; of course I'll do it."

"Thanks," he said offhandedly.

"I'm happy if you're happy," Ruka continued, and Natsume cut him off with a faint smirk.

"Yeah, I get it. I get all weird when you go emotional on me, okay?" he joked, and Ruka simply laughed.

"So, where are we going?" he asked.

"To see a band or something," Natsume informed him. "I've never heard of them, and it'll probably be shit, but _she's _going so it's my best shot. She won't change her plans even if I beg her to."

"She's got you whipped, you know?" Ruka taunted, and Natsume rolled his eyes.

"I haven't had sex in over a week, give me a break," he said. Even mentioning it was almost too much for him. To hell with Mikan even _daring _to refuse him tonight, if he didn't fuck her soon he was sure he'd go insane.

"The things you'd do for a lay," Ruka chuckled.

"The things I'd do for _her_," Natsume corrected – shamefully so – but it was true. He no longer chased after _any _old sex, it had to be with her.

And being apart only made him want her even more, it would appear. He wasn't going to bother arguing with that.

* * *

Only a little editing, 'cause this is kind of a hot-off-the-brain kinda fanfic, so I'm just letting it all flow freestyle and hope I cross the finish line before my brain dies.

In other news, are there any yaoi fans reading? My next WiP that I'm planning (but not writing yet) is going to be an attempt at a _very _canon, in-character, and comprehensive Natsume/Ruka. Anyone interested should drop me a line or read it when I get around to write it.

In the meantime you can tell me what you thought of this chapter in a review, right? :D


	25. XXV

Updated! This chapter was meant to be more inclusive than this, but Natsume and Mikan _insist _on wasting time and doing all these things ;) Natsume especially.

Loving each and every reader and reviewer right now. You are all amazing people and I'd give you all a hug if I could.

* * *

Natsume and Ruka met at the station, as planned and confirmed by their parents. What they _didn't _know what who would also coincidentally be there.

"_Wow_," was Natsume's first reaction to Mikan, when he and Ruka approached her and her friends that night, and he picked her out of the other girls straight away. "You look fucking amazing."

Mikan had to agree with him, but she remembered days when he'd accuse her of being all colour of slut for something like this – metal-link tops that barely covered her stomach and short skirts weren't exactly the most modest of items.

"Thanks," she grinned a mile wide, happier than she had any right to be simply by the fact that Natsume was coming out – as her boyfriend – on a normal night out with her friends. "It gets really hot inside these places."

"That's not the only thing that gets hot," he retorted lewdly, and he noticed her friends glancing around curiously – surely they knew he was coming, but they seemed to be uncomfortable with his presence for some reason. He was only paying attention to Mikan anyway, and they had _never _cared about what they said or did in front of people.

"You're so funny," Mikan said sarcastically, and then looked past Natsume to Ruka. "Hey, Nogi," she said sweetly. "I don't think we've actually, like, met before."

"No," he replied quietly. "I'm kind of only doing this for Natsume."

"Yeah, speaking of Natsume," Natsume himself interjected, distracting everyone from Ruka's cruel response – although not intentionally – as he strode towards Mikan and hit her with a full-on, passionate kiss. "What kind of a way is that to greet me, eh?" he jeered, and Mikan melted into him quickly, escalating their _affections _to almost unspeakable levels.

"So what did he have for breakfast, Mikan?" Sumire screeched after a little while, laughing off the awkwardness and hiding just a _little _envy that Mikan had managed to transform someone she'd hated so much into some half-decent breed of guy, and how they were both so into each other they couldn't hide it even if they _wanted _to.

"Toothpaste," she answered with a giggle, turning her head to look at Sumire and winking as Natsume idly kissed her neck; his hands still firmly on her waist and dipping underneath the fabric of her skirt.

"I brush my teeth before I go out," he explained drly, "_obviously_." A few of the boys with them – Koko (who was pretending the whole incident with Natsume, Mikan and himself never happened), Mochu and some other acquaintances – were uncomfortably struck down with the 'obvious' comment. None of them had actually thought of something like _that_, and they all started to wonder what their breath smelt like to potential girls.

"Haha," Mikan laughed as she noticed some of the other boys' silly efforts to smell their own breath, and drew Natsume into a quick kiss as she threaded her fingers in his hair. "This guy always smells good," she remarked, turning her face down into his neck and taking in the rich aftershave that she would forever associate with him.

"And _this _girl's obsessed with my hair," he retorted smugly, lifting his hands to cup over hers on the back of his head and pulling them down to their sides.

"Am not!" she shot, continuing to ignore the other people with them.

"Of course your are," he murmured, and felt himself relax into the situation. In all honesty he had been a bit worried about this 'date', as he hadn't been sure how he should act with people like _them _around, but when he saw Mikan looking like _that_, and he remembered that they were still the same as ever; he couldn't be any different around her if he tried, and it all fell into place.

"You are so full of it," she criticised, but in a way that didn't come off all that irritated, and Mikan slowly became aware that she and Natsume were performing to an audience. "Everyone," she said suddenly, "this is Hyuuga Natsume. Don't be fooled by the quiet guy you know from school; meet the oversexed, arrogant, _annoying _version you never see at day." This was partially a joke, but it was almost defence – she knew better than anyone how they talked about Natsume, what they thought the 'library boy' was like and how they took the piss out of him – saying this she was subtly trying to reintroduce him, like he'd been reintroduced to her.

"Oversexed?" he echoed scathingly – if she wanted to play to their viewers he would give as good as he got. "You are going to _get _it tonight," he hissed lustily, and while the girls like Anna and Nonoko were a little embarrassed, the boys were somewhat taken aback.

"Oh yeah?" she fired back, and Natsume turned away from her entirely to talk to Ruka.

"I'm going to fuck her so hard later," he announced calmly, and then turned to speak to the other males. "You guys ever had a really nasty fuck?"he asked knowingly – speaking largely from personal experience – and the guys were silent and confused: why was the _library _kid talking like this? Who was this cursing, mouthy, quite-cool-dressed-actually _boyfriend _of Mikan's who'd suddenly decided to turn up, heavily make out with her in public and talk to them about dirty sex?

"Um..."

"It'll be like that, but a hundred times worse," Natsume assured them. "She'll be _screaming_."

"From what, Natsume?" Ruka asked with a smirk. "Pleasure or pain?"

"Both," he answered fluidly. "Blood and cum everywhere." He returned his address to the people he didn't know again with a daring smirk.

"That is disgusting, Natsume!" Mikan screamed, launching herself at him in protest.

"Oh look, she's started," he quipped, and Mochu was heard to laugh very quietly.

"Stop it!" Mikan ordered.

"You started it," he remarked, and then leant in to whisper to her, "_not that I don't mean it_." Mikan wanted to be disgusted and outraged, but instead she wondered how long a fuck like that would take. A week was beginning to weigh in on her too, although not as obviously.

"We... should really be going," one of the girls said, and with no more than a short but throaty kiss Natsume, Mikan and Ruka followed the rest of them onto the train.

A lack of seats meant that not everyone was able to sit down in the carriage; this wasn't a problem for Mikan, who sat firmly in Natsume's lap and maliciously ground her ass down over his semi-hard erection the whole way.

"You better be prepared to deal with the consequences of what you're doing," he muttered in her ear as she tried to talk to her friends.

"What's that?" she replied teasingly, and his hands were suddenly rock-hard around her waist, pushing her down but also holding her in place.

"You fucking know what it is," he hissed, "and I'm going to explode if you keep it up."

"All over the train," she jeered, and he scowled at the joke.

"How much further is it?" he asked Sumire uncomfortably, who was standing next to Ruka in the hopes of him offering to let her sit on him, with no avail.

"Uh, a while yet," she replied awkwardly, and jumped a little as Natsume suddenly stood up – grabbing Mikan by the hand – and informed everyone that they were 'off for a walk'. Dragging her down the carriages, he eventually alighted at the very back of the train – where there were less people – and pushed her into an alcove created by the seats, out of the view of passengers.

"What is this about?" she hissed, glancing around only to find no one had paid them a blind bit of notice, and then immediately regretting saying it when he sat down next to her – walling her in – and unzipped his fly.

"I think it's about time I called in that blow job," he whispered hotly as he slipped one hand into his jeans and curled the other around her neck.

"What?!" she said in a hushed voice – she didn't want to be caught either. "You dragged me down here for _this?!"_

"You can't sit there for fifteen minutes grinding my cock like that if you aren't prepared to deal with the consequences," he spat, pulling her close and landing a clumsy kiss on her lips. "_Suck it_," he said, somewhere indefinably between a command and a pitiable request, and although Mikan's heart was pounding in her chest from fright, she didn't make a run for it or start screeching as he pulled his erection free from his pants.

"The sooner you start the sooner it'll be over," he reminded her as she came face to face with an entirely _different _kind of head, and for some wild reason, in spite of her own good advice, she simply flicked him an upward glance and then took him into her mouth.

His hand had slid down to her shoulder and he moaned breathily as she first made contact; his hand contorting tight with the pleasure. She took as much of him as she could into her mouth before he was fully hard, and he groaned again; shooting a worried glance out to the rest of the carriage – who, thankfully, hadn't seemed to have cottoned on just yet: no one was even looking their way. So it was that or they were tactfully pretending it wasn't happening, but he could honestly say at this point he didn't give a shit.

His hand eventually moved upward to end up in her hair, and he guided her movements as she sucked him. It had been _too long _since he last had a blowjob, and he'd missed the thrill of sex (or its derivative acts) in public places.

Mikan was also registering this, because although she normally was less than enthusiastic about giving head, the combination of Natsume's frayed nerves, helplessness (all because of _her_), the knowledge that they could be caught by absolutely anyone at any time, and what all her friends must be thinking by now, she actually got into it – even enjoying it a bit.

Sure she wasn't getting anything _physical _out of it, but how completely in his power he was now was quite the novelty, and she liked how a soft scrape of her teeth or flick of her tongue could make him moan and fist his hand tighter in her hair. She sort of understood why he was so hot on doing it for her.

"Uh... shit," he clipped as he got close – she'd been building him up for about a _week_, so it was hardly drawing blood from a stone (about the exact opposite, actually), and he took rather a lot of pleasure in the fact that she wouldn't have much choice but to swallow.

Swallow? He was expecting her to swallow, wasn't he? Well, there wasn't much else she was going to be able to do when he'd shot his load. _Shit_, Mikan thought as he tightened his grip on her in his final throes, _this _was what annoyed her about giving head.

But there wasn't that much she could do about it _now_, and as he started she tried to think about something else – like she used to with Tsubasa and other boyfriends – but found herself unable. She could not convince herself that she was doing anything other than what she was doing – giving her boyfriend a blow job on a train, it was all too vivid to channel out. So as she felt him come at last, she simply tried to remember how _he'd _been doing this for her, and she did her very best not to gag as she semi-reluctantly swallowed.

Natsume sighed like he'd just been given CPR after nearly drowning, and unclenched his hands languidly, with deep breaths.

"I needed that," he murmured contently as he did his jeans up again, and Mikan sat up with a less-than-enigmatic expression.

"Yeah, I could tell," she muttered, and then suddenly found herself yanked over as he claimed a kiss from her.

A kiss? She'd just sucked him off! Didn't he care?

"Uh!" she squeaked. "You know where my mouth's just been, right?"

"I _did _notice," he sniggered, and kissed her again – mouth open.

"Don't you... mind?" she said quietly, and as if to prove his point he gave her another kiss with heavy tongues on his part.

"Why would I care?" he whispered. "It's not like there's anything wrong with it." He leaned in a little closer. "I actually think it's pretty hot."

"Eh?"

"My cum in your mouth as I kiss you," he reiterated. "I get off on possessive shit like that."

"Weirdo..." she murmured, closing her eyes and trying not to think too much about it as he coaxed her into another extended kiss.

"Thank you," he said when they came apart.

"What?"

"_Thanks_," he huffed. "Do I have to repeat everything to you? I was saying thanks for doing it for me. I needed it."

"_Thanks_," she imitated sardonically. "Like I had any choice." He furrowed his brow at this.

"Of course you did," he said simply, and she gave him a withering look.

"Like I get a 'choice' about when we have sex?"

"You _do_ get a choice," he replied dumbly, unable to understand where this was coming from.

"Sure," she bit icily.

"You do!" he snapped. "You think I spent weeks _pretending _not to be able to have sex with you? You think I made it so you turned me down so many times that I was off my head wanting you? _You _ had the final say when we finally did it, and you have not done anything you don't actually want to do; you may like playing coy, but you don't do anything that you aren't gagging for in one way or another." He gripped her arm tight with this. "So don't you _dare _say otherwise."

She paused, quiet, and then broke down. She couldn't fault his argument, but she just didn't _feel _like that was the way things worked. Apart from that _one _time, it had always been Natsume choosing when and what they did, and even if he hadn't made her do anything against her will, it was like she didn't really get a say in the matter.

"Yeah, sorry," she murmured darkly. "I... I don't know what I thought. I'm just being weird." They kissed – even though Mikan retained the little angry thought at the back of her head – and then he stood up.

"Hopefully we won't have missed the stop," he chuckled, and she realized how much time they'd wasted with a flash, and started to run back down the train.

"This is _your _fault!" she snapped as they dashed back. "I come out with my friends and what do we end up doing?!" She heard him laughing behind her, but thankfully they hadn't left it too long; although Mikan nearly ran by the whole group in her panic.

"WoooOOooo," people cheered as they reappeared, and Mikan's face gained colour as they returned to the group.

"How was that _walk_, Mikan?" one of the guys taunted, and before she could blush any harder Natsume was standing in front of her.

"Did _you_ just get head?" he said cruelly.

"Eh? What?" the guy said, confused; Mikan meanwhile jabbed Natsume fiercely in the back for making it so obvious. "No..."

"Then shut the fuck up," Natsume snarled. "Anyone with a girlfriend can speak up, but if you're all fucking wankers then maybe you'd appreciate shutting up about my–"

"Okay, Natsume," Mikan interjected. "It's fine. Leave it." She didn't want him to piss everyone off before they even got to the venue – he was pissing her off _now _as it was – but thankfully the guys seemed to take it as some kind of boundary-forming exercise, and didn't seem any better or worse on Natsume, although they didn't make any more jokes about her.

"What did you _do_?" Sumire whispered as she sidled up to Mikan's ear. "What the hell was that even about?"

"It's... stupid," she sighed, "but he'll probably be better behaved now."

"That guy is so... _odd_," she said as non-offensively as possible.

"Tell me about it," Mikan agreed, scowling as the train pulled up to their station.

"Okay! Everyone off!" Sumire called boldly, jumping up and ushering everyone out the door. In the middle of the crowd Mikan felt a hand take hers, and the fact that she could tell it was Natsume's simply by how it felt made her irritation buckle at the knees. Even if he was really getting on her tits she couldn't help feeling happy when he did things like that – just like him, really. Hot one minute and cold the next. Nice and nasty all at the same time. Dick.

"What do you think they're doing?" Sumire timidly asked Ruka not long after Natsume had dragged Mikan off half-way through the train journey.

"What do you _think_?" was all he said in reply. Sumire was _trying _to flirt with him, but so far Ruka seemed to be uninterested and completely detached. She knew that he was only coming along tonight so that Mikan could see Natsume, but she didn't expect him to be like _this_.

"Yeah... I guess," she laughed falsely, and Ruka gave her a narrow look. "Those two, huh?" she attempted to say in a merry fashion, but it came out a little strained.

Ruka shook his head a little. "I don't understand them at all."

"Me neither!" she rushed, glad to have found a point they could agree on. "Sometimes I wonder if _they _understand them."

"Hn," Ruka made a small sound that could've been disdain or concurrence, "perhaps." In the end it was neither, and Sumire was no better or worse off than before.

"So... have you heard of the band?" she inquired brightly.

"What?"

"The band playing," she mumbled. "They've got a new album out, but they're still unsigned."

"I've never heard of them," he said quietly, and looked out the window.

She wanted to ask what his Alice was, she wanted to know why he acted so cool but didn't seem to want to know them. She wanted to know _a lot_, but she just didn't know how to ask.

She was realising, as she watched him from the corner of her eye, that she had never known Ruka in the first place, and now she had the opportunity to speak to him everything that she'd presumed would happen was _not _happening, and she was actually talking to the face she'd fantasised on someone else's personality.

"Have you... applied to university?" she asked after a while – Natsume and Mikan still up to god-knows _what wherever_ they went. "You want to be a vet, don't you?"

"Yes," he said warmly, turning to look at her with a little more compassion. "I do. For medical schools you have to apply early, so I've already sent out all my applications."

"That's good," she replied. "I'm still not sure... I'm gonna take the exams but I don't know what I want to do really." Ruka gave her a quick look.

"You get okay grades, don't you?"

"Sure," she replied. "I just don't really... _go _for anything. It must be nice having one thing you wanna' devote the rest of your life to," she sighed wistfully.

"Animals are simple," he said plainly. "They don't lie, or cheat, or _judge_... they are just..." Sumire was dazzled by the way his eyes lit up as he spoke, and she felt herself falling for him all over again.

"Amazing?" she suggested, and his enigmatic expression suddenly faded.

"I was going to say easy to understand," he remarked coolly, "but I suppose they are."

"Do you have any pets?" she inquired desperately, trying to save the situation.

"Not really," he said dully. "I look after strays sometimes, but they usually move on to other homes."

"Oh... still, that sounds like a really nice thing to do," Sumire said. "You're a really nice guy, Nogi-kun."

"Ruka is fine," he said bluntly, and Sumire blushed. Was this a good sign, or was he just stating the obvious? It was not long after this that Natsume and Mikan turned up again – who knows what went down _there_ – and Sumire lost the opportunity to carry on talking to Ruka.

There was still the rest of the night, she reasoned, as she shooed everyone off the train and led the way to the live-house; shooting secret looks at Ruka the whole way.

* * *

I noticed that I hardly _ever _mention other characters in this story, and that if they do feature they are never talking to someone who isn't Mikan and Natsume, so I decided to mix it up a little and have some Sumire/Ruka interaction.

Like it/them? Dislike it/them? Do you think they'll get anywhere? It's a secret! You'll have to wait until I update to see how I play the other pairings, 'cause I'm mean like that ;)

So mean you obviously want to leave me a review, which you also want to do because Natsume is a disrespecting, horny boy who _does _these things without my permission. I mean it! He came up with this M-rated indecency all by himself. Nothing to do with me whatsoever. So review ;) I want to reach 400 reviews; I only need 30 or so, and there's definitely more than 30 people who read this. So do it! Be a _part _of something.

Keepin' it real, FearandLoathingILV


	26. XXVI

:( Nearly a week for this chapter! I'm supeeerrrrr-sorry, but hopefully I'll get some good stuff done over the weekend.

Just as a heads-up, many M-rated fics are heavily about sex and feature a lot of lemons, and as you all must be aware by now this fic is not so much like that. Sex is a theme, but it is not a large part of the narrative. _That said_, the last few chapters seem to have been quite explicit in content, and I want to reassure the readers that I am _not _going to go off into lemon-every-chapter-land. That land sucks, IMO.

I write things as I feel they need to be written, and I also hope at this point that not too many people are shocked by my writing :P

Enjoy!

* * *

The place they went to was dark, crowded and _loud_. Natsume and Ruka found the concept of constantly having to push past and _touch _other people to move rather unplesant, although everyone else didn't seem to be bothered by it. Within half an hour both of them – not really caring about any of the bands – had opted to hang around the back where the venue was less crowded and equipped with a bar.

Drink, Natsume argued, was good for numbing out the noise.

"You won't notice it so much," he bellowed in Ruka's ear, who continued to resist the concept of drinking - he did _not _hold it well. "Go on!" Nastume shouted, moving towards the bar. "I'll buy one for you anyway."

Ruka chose not mention it, but Natsume would not have done something like this before he met Mikan – there was something ever-so-slightly more social about him, even if it was only with his best friend.

Natsume tried to keep an eye on Mikan in the crowd – he wasn't _entirely _comfortable with the thought of people being able to do things to her without them close at hand to beat the shit out of them, but he didn't bother to argue; he'd have to trust that she'd tell him if anything happened.

"Sorry you had to suffer this," Natsume said as he handed Ruka his drink. "It was the only way."

"I know," Ruka replied. "I don't mind. They're all right really." Natsume froze up when he spotted Mikan with an arm slung around her neck, but a second look confirmed it was Sumire's.

"Has her friend been annoying you?" he inquired.

"Who?"

"Sumire," Natsume said, reminded by spotting the girl in question in the crowd. "She digs you, right?" Ruka shrugged.

"I can't tell with them anymore," he replied. "She was talking to me, though." Natsume grinned and pushed Ruka's arm lightly.

"You could have her, _easily_," he remarked.

"Yeah, I guess," Ruka said humbly.

"She's not bad," he said cheekily, and Ruka gave him a suspecting look. "Hey, I mean no one's better than Mikan, but I was just saying. In general terms, she's not bad at all." Ruka rolled his eyes and raised his eyebrows.

"Are you really into her that much?" he asked, almost reluctantly.

"Seems like it," Natsume answered unashamedly. "Who knows how long it'll last, but right now it's pretty good." He shot a glance at another girl with a short skirt near them. "Not bad, right? I'd still rather have Mikan." The girl _was_ hot, and it was enough to surprise Ruka; he wasn't used to Natsume talking like this.

"Sometimes I can't believe it's you actually saying this stuff," he admitted.

"Me too," Natsume chuckled. There was more he could say, but he didn't see the point. There were no words he could use to describe it that weren't spelled 'l-o-v-e' and he was not prepared to start thinking like that... just yet.

He went to the bar for another drink, getting an extra one for Mikan when she turned up – which she did – sweating and very much in need of refreshment. He pointed to the heavily iced-up beer he had already allocated for her, and she smiled and took it. Simply going off to dance with her friends had chilled her out a lot – she _was _a bit annoyed with Natsume, but going off and dancing it all away (if you forgive the metaphor) made his small offering of a drink seem much sweeter.

"Why don't you come and dance?" she yelled above the din. She never was good at staying mad with him, and dancing together would be even better for cheering her up.

"I don't like it," he protested.

"I did something for you tonight, you do something for me!" she said with a grin. He laughed and his petulant, sulking-face broke into a crooked grin.

"_That's _what you want me to do?" he said sarcastically. "You're in credit for just about _anything_, and you want me to dance?"

"You better believe it," she said, grinning, and then without much fuss finished her beer, finished _his_, and pulled him by the hand to the main crowd. There was a band getting ready to play, but while they set up there was a DJ keeping the crowd excited; so it was a nondescript dance tune that Natsume first danced to.

This was the first time he'd danced with a girl, ever. He'd never used these places to pick up girls, and he'd never had to resort to dancing to gain favour – he'd never _wanted _to.

The beat was plain and uninteresting, but everyone around them burst into animation as the music fluctuated and pulsed. Mikan's hands were knotted with his, and she bounced and span around him, barging into people and jostling their bodies together. Natsume didn't know what to do, so he looked around and attempted to copy what everyone else was doing – jumping up and down in time to the music. That was it?

He didn't think he saw the point of it _at all_, until he suddenly picked up the riff from a song he'd been aware of on the radio recently. It didn't matter whether or not he liked it on the radio, he _knew _it, and so did everyone else. The entire crowd exploded, bashing into each other, jumping, screaming and generally going nuts. As the song really got going – now remixed with a heavy drum and bass beat – Natsume tested an idea and put his free hand to his mouth and yelled. A meaningless scream that meant nothing, except possibly 'I know this song'. Around him people started screaming as well, and he could hear Mikan as one of those voices beside him.

It was stupid, but it was somehow liberating, and he shouted again, then when someone pushed him and he roughly shoved them back, he was mildly surprised to see them grin like a maniac and give him a thumbs up. _This _was dancing?

They had picked a good time to enter the crowd apparently, because just as they stopped moving the band came on stage – he assumed they did, everyone started screaming, himself included – and people poured from the less-packed areas right into the middle of the floor. He and Mikan were subsequently absorbed into the thick of the crowd, and when a mashed-up electric guitar riff ripped through the air like tearing fabric, Natsume's ears rang; virgin to such a sound.

The funny thing was he didn't really care – perhaps it was the couple of beers, but he didn't mind that he couldn't hear anything except the band: he didn't _need _to. People stuck their hands up in the air and Mikan's dragged his up with it, he laughed and shouted, hearing her scream next to him. He put the fingers of his other hand in his mouth and whistled. People barged, shoved, elbowed and generally manhandled each other, but for some reason it was all treated as a big game.

If someone fell down, you could guarantee three people would help them back up, and although he caught a blow on the cheek that had a good chance of leaving a bruise, this was surprisingly fun. Roughousing for adults.

When the set finished and it was deemed acceptable to leave the crowd in search of more to drink, Natsume flicked a number of glances over at Mikan with a curious look on his face.

"What?" she said bluntly.

"That was..." he said thoughtfully, "not that bad." She grinned.

"It's good fun, even if you don't know the band," she remarked. She looked even more amazing in this setting – sure her makeup was running and she was drenched in sweat, probably smelling less than favourable if he got close enough, but she had the similar sort of satisfied air that she had just after they'd had sex. Oh how he'd missed having sex with her.

"Although," Natsume said slyly, darting forwards to nail her against a supporting pillar, out of the flow of pedestrians. "I can think of some things that are _more _fun."

Mikan didn't bother to reply – this was not a situation that required a response.

Apart from snogging his face off, obviously.

Their ears rang, feet ached, head pounded, but none of that seemed to affect the sensations. If anything, they made it more intense. He pushed his own weight against her and felt the pressure build up between her and the wall; his mouth lashed over hers and hands tangled in her hair and clothes. If people sniggered walking past them, they didn't notice.

"Why does it feel like ages since I fucked you?" he growled in her ear, and he could tell she felt the same way – _she _hadn't already come already once today as it was.

"It _has _been ages," she replied. _Yes, _she found the fact that he always called the shots annoying. _Yes, _he was controlling and demanding. _Yes_, it sometimes felt like she was sex-on-tap for him. _However_, she was also as hot-blooded as he could be, and she wanted sex a _lot _right now too.

"What do you think then?" he posed.

"I think not without a condom," she fired back without hesitation, and he scowled. "I also think no more public places." All of the above said, she still had a _few _rules, and she still knew that he wouldn't _properly _force her to do things.

"Your place?" he suggested.

"But what about my friends?" she protested.

"Well you can't have both," he put plainly. He didn't dig sharing. She looked him in the eyes and smiled, the lights of the club flashing red, blue and green across her face, lighting it up in every colour. He knew what her answer would be.

"I'll wait," she said, and his predictions backfired like a bad engine. He scowled; she laughed. "Waiting will make it even better, won't it?" she said seductively in his ear. Already he could feel things coming to life down there, and he wasn't sure how much he'd enjoy this game.

"You're fucking with me," he stated, and she gave him a toying look.

"Am I?" she giggled, and he shot in for a heavy kiss, lightening to trail along her jaw and neck. He bit her; right where she liked it, and she squealed, "Ow!"

"You play dirty, I'll play dirty," he said hoarsely, and then grabbing her by the hand, hauled her back to where the rest of their friends were gathered. They all eyed him and Mikan knowingly, except for Ruka, who still looked surprised at the fact that Natsume had actually gone to dance, and even more so that he was dirty and sweaty, but smiling. He wondered if a girl like Mikan wasn't a bad idea – it certainly seemed to be doing a lot for Natsume's happiness.

"What?" he shot slyly, and no one dared pass comment. Natsume was too confusing for most of them to feel confidant passing judgement on; they couldn't _get _him.

"I'm skint, do you wanna split and find another place?" Mikan said to Sumire. "The bands are over, after all."

"This place is a fucking rip-off," Sumire agreed. "Why not."

They found themselves in another bar eventually, and Natsume and Mikan seemed to be determined to get drunk faster than anyone else. Why that was no one could tell, but it had something to do with Mikan drinking Natsume's beer-so-he-drank-hers-so-she-got-another-one-drank-his-another-hers-another-theirs-another, or something like that.

Then they proceeded to have an argument about whether or not he checked out the barmaid, who was, in fact, a bar_man_, and Natsume instantly threw the same question back at her. Most people were cowed into silence as they started screaming at each other and throwing drinks, which, within a flash, had suddenly turned into a game and they were both falling about laughing.

"Do you have _any _idea what's going on?" Sumire whispered to Ruka behind her hand, as Mikan wrung beer out of her hair and Natsume nuzzled his face into her neck.

"No," Ruka replied. "But I'm a little scared." Sumire was a little drunk herself now, and feeling more confidant. Ruka had only had two, but he was quite a lightweight, and tended to forcefully introvert himself when he drunk, because otherwise he sometimes got a bit... handsy, when he was drunk. Natsume told him so.

"It's quite romantic though, isn't it?" she whispered to him, and, to her pleasant surprise, he jittered in a not-repulsed way.

"I don't know," he murmured, trying not to think about the girl's hands on his jacket. He didn't _want _to, but he now admitted to himself he was jealous of what Natsume had. Sumire wouldn't be that, though; he could tell. She leant closer and he could smell the beer on her breath. He didn't _want _to but...

"Hey! Sumire!" Koko snapped suddenly, placing two glasses down on the table loudly as Ruka and Sumire gravitated together forebodingly. "Do you want another drink?"

"Huh?" she replied curtly. "I've got one." She pointed to the nearly-full bottle on the table beside her.

"Oh, _my mistake_," he said unconvincingly, and Ruka considered himself narrowly saved.

"I think I better go," he announced, standing up. "Natsume," he said, trying to attract his friend's attention without having to watch what he was doing with Mikan too closely. As it turned out he wasn't doing anything at all.

"See her," Natsume said with just a slight slur, pointing to a girl at the bar. "Ten minutes." Mochu's eyes widened.

"_How?"_

"Nothing to it," Natsume laughed. "On her own, dressed up, drinking. She's gagging for it." There was a smart slapping sound as Mikan attacked Natsume from behind, but in seconds he had dragged her onto his lap.

"But_ this one_," he stated as he lapped an arm around her waist. "Took _months_, in fact, I'm still trying now." He tipped his face up and kissed the spot just below her ear. "She gets paranoid for some reason, but she's _completely different _to that girl over there." He looked back at Koko. "I was only advising him; you should _know _that I don't want anyone else."

"Why?" Mikan insisted rattily.

"Because," he replied emphatically, kissing her again. Koko realized that he'd never stood a chance.

"That's no reason."

"I've never had a reason," he retorted. "I just _do_." He squeezed her in his lap and Mikan felt herself sulking at his persuasiveness.

"Stop that," she whined.

"What?"

"Making me want to fuck you," she murmured out of others' earshot.

"I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to," he remarked, pulling down her chin to kiss her on the mouth. "You're too into me." Mikan rolled her eyes.

"I'm _going_," Ruka repeated a little louder, and Natsume looked over instantly. He was supposed to be going back with Ruka, or his parents would bust him even worse. He groaned and gave Mikan an apologetic look.

"Oh hell no," she retorted. "You're _not _going."

"Just come back with me," he pleaded. "We went out, I talked to people, I _waited_." He nudged her insistently. "Come back now."

"Go _on_, girl," Sumire interrupted as Mikan dithered silently. "You know you want to. We'll have more fun without you lovebirds scarring off all the single guys." It was said cruelly, but meant kindly. Mikan bashfully shuffled off Natsume's lap and stood up, naturally slipping her hand into his as they said goodbye and left.

"So, what are we doing about... uh, well," Ruka said as soon as they were outside. "I'd rather it if Mikan didn't... y'nno; it would be hard to explain."

"She lives around your way," Natsume replied, understanding Ruka when Mikan couldn't follow a single word. "I'll come back later. We'll hang at hers."

"See, t_here you go_," Mikan said. "You just assume my place is always free."

"Your place _is _always free," he stated.

"What?" Ruka said.

"She lives on..." Natsume started, but then checked himself. If Mikan didn't tell him, then he didn't know who it was and wasn't okay to tell. "Her parents are away for a week," he explained, and Mikan squeezed his hand gratefully at the half-truth.

On the way back Natsume teased Ruka about being a lightweight, and tried not to think about fucking Mikan too much or he'd lose it. It didn't really work, and he was raring to go by the time they were on her road. It wasn't far from Ruka's, and he assured his friend he'd be back in an hour or two – when Mikan had fallen asleep, he reckoned. Ruka had no objections, naturally, and awkwardly bade them goodbye. He could tell when Natsume had sex in mind, and it made him about as communicative as a pillarbox.

"_So_," Mikan started as they were finally alone. "Now what?"

"You know what," he replied, speeding up his pace and gripping her arm tightly in his hand. "It feels like _forever _since we fucked."

"Oh? You hot for it?" she teased. Well aware that she was just as ready as well – she could already feel it in her shorts.

"Fuck yes," he laughed, turning into her house and waiting for her to get the door. They stumbled inside in the dark, and he stopped her going for the lights. "Forget them," he murmured, kicking the door behind them and fumbling into the main room, kicking his shoes off.

"What're you..." she said, her words stunted as he picked her up and dropped down onto his knees.

"_Here_," he insisted hotly as he laid her out on the floor. "Fuck the bed." Mikan laughed at the irony – fucking was the last thing the bed would get now. Then she simply kissed him.

There was less fooling around at the beginning now, but as he – with a resigned air – threw aside a few precious moments for carefully-stashed contraception, she thought to herself that maybe it _would _be better to go on the pill. Perhaps she could do it tomorrow. If he was still here, that was; he was supposed to be going, wasn't he?

She couldn't really think about it long, though, because she didn't have time to think about much before he split her legs on his hips and slammed straight into her. It felt, to ignore the irony, _fucking amazing_.

"_Fuck,_ Natsume," she panted, and he grunted and went again.

"Yes," he growled as they fucked against the hard floor – her ass, when he slipped his hands around to cup it, was cold from the floorboards, and tingled pleasurably against his scorching palms. "My name. _Fuck, _more..."

"Natsume," she repeated, feeding his desire as he fed hers. She felt completely _stuffed_, making her back arch and her hips lift to accomadate him, and as she chewed on a lip. "Na–tsume!"

It was hot, it was so hot. Her crying his name as he fucked her too hard to keep quiet – he knew her well enough by now, and she didn't scream out loud unless she _absolutely _couldn't hold it back. Her nails sunk into his shoulder blades and she tightened around him in the agony of almost-but-not-quite-there. He was going to be soaked down to his balls at this rate, but he _did not care_. He wanted her to scream her voice out on him.

However, finally banging her over that incline was too much for him to hold back on himself, and he helplessly came just as she did. He hadn't really believed in simultaneous orgasms, but he was obviously going to have to reconsider.

They lay on the floor – still together – until they could breathe normally, and then he blindly made his way to the bathroom; showers aside, they both needed to wash up _a little _after that. As good as it had been and everything.

"You look _out of it_," he remarked as he looked at her in the light.

"Whose fault is that?" she retorted; tired, but positively _glowing_ post-coitally. "You're not..." Her face darkened suddenly. "...going, are you?"

Shit, he was supposed to go back to Ruka's.

Fuck it, fuck it all. He couldn't think of one reason to go back; why would he leave a warm, naked body he _adored _to sleep on his own. What was he, _insane?_

He shook his head. "As if," he snorted. "Let's go to bed," he suggested, leading the way to the bedroom. He jumped down on the invitingly soft bed and she followed him, rolling on top of him to kiss, while she wriggled under the covers.

They fell asleep tangled together; the smell of each other's sex on their skin and a light film of sweat meeting the cool night air. There wasnt a single place in the world they'd rather be.

* * *

Uh, so, yes. Natsume did it :P He's so horned. All the time.

Leave a review please. Floorfucking FTW and gig-age. Also, if it's not too much fuss peeps could go and, well, you know, vote for me on the GARC 2008...

http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/topic/55572/12298922/1/

Not to pressure you or anything, but if you all took like five seconds to vote for me I could, like, actually not-fail against all the other awesomefics out there. For the love of Natsume?


	27. XXVII

Hiyo! An update!

FYI, I _swear _Natsume and Mikan will stop having sex soon. Or, like, I mean, I'll stop writing about it all the time. It just keeps jumping into things annoying-ly. I don't actually enjoy writing lemons all that much, and I promise you all I will never write a lemon that I don't feel has importance in one way or another. Their first time was obvious, last chapter after the date was about their desperation, the train was about power-balances, and it's totes all good stuff, Kay-Kay?

I'm sure you have noticed as well as I have that the updates have slowed down a little, but I will cut off my ear (V-G style) before I let this story die. It _will _live on.

Enough of me though, let's hear from _them._

* * *

"What the _fuck_," Natsume groaned as he woke up the next morning; Mikan's knee softly in his stomach and a hand sandwiched underneath his neck after they spent the night together, following their outing to the gig with friends (mostly hers).

"Ehhh?" she murmured sleepily.

"There's something poking me in the ass."

"Well it's not _me_," she replied. Natsume moved sluggishly, trying to slip a hand down under the delightfully warm duvet – holy _fuck, _there was something breathtakingly nice about sleeping naked with someone; you woke up and the whole _bed _was warm, and almost everywhere you moved your skin was in contact with theirs – and grab whatever it was that had embedded itself in his skin.

Natsume pulled up a small silver earring with a red charm.

"Oh!" Mikan squeaked as she recognised the thing being held in front of her face. "I wondered where that pair went."

"Pair?" he questioned. "There was just this one." He moved about. "Well, I mean there's nothing_ else_ else sticking into me."

"Oh, well... now that I think about it, I remember throwing the other out," she mused. Natsume rolled his eyes.

"Hey, hold still," she giggled, pushing herself up and taking the earring from him. She rolled on top of him and they were both reminded of how wonderfully, _delightfully_ naked they were, and then she carefully reached for his ear.

"Uh, what are you..." he said worriedly.

"Hold _still_," she laughed, and Natsume realized that she was putting the earring on _him_.

"Am I some kind of giant doll to you?" he shot, as she clicked the silver hoop shut, and then toyed with the red bead that hung from it with a finger.

"It looks fine," she replied.

"I'm not your dress-up mannequin," he stated, reaching up to feel for the ear in question.

"_You're _the one who gets all possessive," she remarked. "Why can't _I _have something marking you?" Actually, _that _was an idea he could buy into; his hands trailed up the back of her legs to her ass, and he felt the warm skin yield under his fingers as he gripped her.

"Is that right?" he said seductively. "You want to 'mark' me?" He pressed his fingertips deep into the malleable mounds of her rear, and pulled her flush against him.

"Yep," she replied girlishly. "Make it clear you're _mine_."

Natsume closed his eyes and enjoyed a moment of pure bliss.

"I love it when you talk like that," he murmured adoringly – eyes still shut – and then it struck him that he'd said the word _love_, about Mikan, and she wasn't even asleep. He was quiet – had she realized what he had? He was going into dangerous territory.

Apparently not, or, if she did, she didn't care. Either way, her lips brushed his ear just above his piercing and she whispered in it.

"You know what _I _love?" she teased, and her legs slowly started to pull up, rubbing against him until she had a knee pressing into the mattress on either side of him.

"Yeah?" he said; Mikan wasn't usually the initiator for sex, but if he wasn't much mistaken then it was _exactly _what was happening now. She kissed his ear again, and traced her slightly-moist lower lip along the shell of his ear. He held her even more eagerly, and pressed his waist up against her; turning his face into her and capturing her neck with his mouth. He ran his palms up her smooth back to her shoulders, and drew one down the curve of her side to a soft breast, dusting his knuckles across the gentle slope before cupping it in his hanf.

They were kissing properly now; a well practised art that felt almost as natural as speaking to one another, and when Mikan sat up – still straddled over his growing erection – to grab a condom off the side-table (which had been stocked-up in case of this very situation), Natsume tried to roll them over to their usual positions.

"Uh-uh," she scolded, pushing him back down after trapping the corner of the condom packet in her teeth to free both hands. "Stay there." Natsume tried to move again; he was too used to being on top, and this was an unfamiliar development, but Mikan put a hand on his forehead and pushed him down by that.

"I _told_ you; you are staying there," she said impatiently. "Just lie back and enjoy it," she told him cheekily, and without too much fuss, Natsume relented. It wasn't like it was hard.

Okay, well, it _was _hard, but that wasn't the same thing.

True to her words, Natsume didn't have to do a _thing_; she was the one who did all the work – picking on the quirks of his body with her hands and mouth: pleasantly surprising him by toying around with a little oral sex under the duvet,, and more or less running the show by herself.

He felt a bit lazy, but it was interesting to say the least. He rather liked not quite being in charge; usually he was uncomfortable not being dominant, but he knew and trusted her so well that it was something of a turn-on to surrender everything and let himself submit. It_ was _Mikan who chose how everything went – squeezing her thighs against his sides as she lowered herself onto him – setting the pace and forcing him into a helpless bottom, who did little more than moan and gasp.

He didn't think there were many sights that could beat looking up at her as she rode him; breasts bouncing and her face lit up in ecstasy.

Natsume only wished _this _was his normal getting-up routine. In more ways that one, heh.

"Aren't you... supposed to be at Ruka's?" she asked; right in the _middle _of this sex.

"Is this... nng, really the right time to mention that?" he panted.

"If you're going to get in trouble... ah, _ah; _that's nice," she gasped, he reached for her neck and pulled her down close to him.

"It'll be fine," he said assuredly, and kissed her harder as they sprinted for the finish line.

Afterwards, Natsume decided they needed to wash together again, and this time he _insisted_ that she washed his hair instead of himself; he'd liked it too much last time not to demand the favour again.

"I was thinking," Mikan said a little while later, after a phone call to Ruka had cleared up all their problems, in that Ruka's mother – a wonderfully romantic and sweet French woman – had been enlightened as to Natsume and Mikan's plight, and had nobly agreed to inform Natsume's mother Natsume had been with Ruka all evening, and – if questioned – had slept at their house. If she asked to speak to him, she would be told that they had both gone out for a walk. This time, at least, he was covered for.

"Really?" he taunted sarcastically, and she pulled his hair spitefully.

"I was thinking," she said again, "that maybe going on the pill wouldn't be so bad." To be fair, there was a growing surplus of used condoms developing, and although they were naturally throwing them away, Mikan was softening up to the advantages of alternative contraception.

"Of course it wouldn't," he replied assuredly. "Have you got to work today?"

"Uh, not until the evening," she answered.

"Good; we'll go today then?" He pushed for it – the sooner he could get rid of the condoms, the better. He'd never have to use one _again _hopefully.

Wait a second, what was that implying?

"Uh, there's _one little thing_..." Mikan said quietly, and Natsume's attention was directed elsewhere.

* * *

"What?!" he spluttered. "You want me to do _what?!" _

"Look!" she snapped. "I _know _you've had unprotected sex with people you barely know; thank _god _no one got pregnant, but how do I know you don't have anything?"

"I do _not _have an STD!" he snarled.

"Have you had a test?"

"No!"

"Then you don't know, do you! You've had unprotected sex, haven't you?"

"I _still _don't have a..."

"You don't _know _that!" she screamed, and entrants to the sexual health clinic were reminded of many good reasons to use contraception. Who wanted arguments (or kids) like that?

"I'm _not _doing this!" he roared.

"If you want to have sex with me again then you will!" she yelled back. "I'll going in there and get the pill, but you can think twice if I'm going to fuck you without knowing you're clean."

"You're disgusting," he hissed.

"_You are!" _she raged. "You're the one who had all the loose sex."

"I'm _fine_!" he said. "I'm not _stupid, _I know enough symptoms."

"You don't know them _all_," she contradicted. "Some things you can't notice. _I'm _not putting myself at risk because of your stupid _ego_." She pointed at the door. "Go in there and get a fucking test, okay? There's nothing wrong with it."

"It's degrading," he said.

"The funny thing is I don't _give a shit_," she spat. "I'm not doing anything with you until you get one."

"You overestimate your willpower," he retorted hotly, and she scowled at him.

"This is fucking bullshit," she muttered. "You are such a dickhead." She turned her back and walked a few steps away from him. "You know what, when _you _go in there to order a test you can pick up the pill; I'm not wasting my money."

"Leeching off my money?" he accused glibly, and she made a crude gesture at him with her fingers.

It irritated Natsume that he and Mikan could go from getting along so well – this morning, for example – to being no better than they were right when they first met.

"It's all your treat, _babe_," she said cruelly. "I don't _actually_ need you or your money."

"Yeah?" he snarled. "You don't need me?" She returned his gaze as aggressively as he gave it.

"No," she said coolly. "I was single and _fine _before you showed up."

"Why don't you go on and fuck off then?" he said spitefully. "If you don't need me so much."

They carried on looking at each other more than was really necessary, and she turned back away from him and walked off, crying 'fuck you too' over her shoulder as she left.

Natsume was too pissed off to regret anything, but, half an hour later, he did not feel so assured. Perhaps he had overreacted, and as he wandered around – not wanting to go home, but obviously not being able to go back to hers – getting more and more annoyed with himself.

Eventually, with a great, sour scowl, he went back to the damn clinic and ordered the stupid test – in all honesty, they _did _make it seem very ordinary and easy. He also asked about the pill, and managed to explain himself well enough to buy a few months supply of it; there went _his _allowance for the rest of the month. Still, if it meant they could patch things up and he wouldn't have to use any more goddam condoms, he would do it.

He got out his phone and messaged her, putting a hand to his ear and feeling the earring – _her _earring – still in his ear. He wouldn't let them do this, not after that.

_Where are you (this is so stupid)? N, x_

He had to wait a few minutes before she replied – more anxious than he'd care to admit – but unfortunately she didn't seem in a sympathetic mood.

_Why do you want to know?_

He replied, _'Because. I'm not letting you go so easily. I want to talk. X' _Thankfully enough, she appeared to be swayed a little, and told him in the next message where she was.

_The café next to the dry-cleaners on the main street. XxX_

He found the place within ten or so minutes, and walked straight into the small room and slapped his receipt down on the table in front of her.

"You win," he said begrudgingly, and she looked up at him in confusion. He sighed and sat down opposite her. "Considering how much of a pain my parents are to our relationship, I decided that being an ass about this was making a bad situation worse; I got your stupid test." She smiled at her victory, and he rolled his eyes.

"You better be about to kiss me soon, because I'm walking straight back out if you don't," he commented offhandedly, and – on cue – she leant across the table and rewarded him with a quick kiss on the lips.

"Thank you," she said with a smile. It didn't need to be said that they hadn't meant some of the things they said, it was enough to know they were okay now.

"So what are you drinking?" he inquired, reaching across the table and picking up her cup to drink from. "Ugh," he said sourly. "Green tea."

"You don't like it?"

"It just tastes like hot water." He sipped again, and they shared a tiny moment of closeness – with how intimate they had been with each other, the idea of sharing drinks or food was natural. But there was still something sweetly domestic about it.

"You could stop drinking it and give it back to me, then," she suggested sarcastically, and as he passed the cup back their fingers met. They stopped, and smiled at each other. Yes. Things would be all right.

* * *

"Where have you been all day, Natsume?" Aoi Hyuga asked when her brother arrived back home later that evening. Natsume looked into the main room over her head. "They aren't here," she told him as he visibly hesitated over his answer.

"I was with Mikan," he answered freely. "_They _think it was Ruka, so quiet about it." Natsume had established with Aoi that if she wanted to know things about Mikan – the two girls got along very well and often she did – then she was sworn to secrecy about everything to their parents. So far she had kept up her side of the deal, which was pretty good for a little sister.

"You were?" she said brightly. "How romantic!"

"When we're 'romantic' you say it's gross," he reminded her; ruffling her hair roughly and making his way over to the sofa.

"Well, I mean, _some _of it's romantic," Aoi said uncertainly.

"I peed in a cup for her; is that romantic?" Natsume said cuttingly, and Aoi squealed. It wasn't the most savoury thing to talk about with his little sister, but it _was _true, and today's act was one of the biggest things he'd genuinely done just because _she_ wanted him to, even when he didn't.

"That's just _disgusting_!" she yelled. Natsume laughed. "Hey, Natsume?" she said after a little while.

"Yeah?"

"Do you love Mikan?"

"Uh..." He didn't know what to say; he should've seen this question coming, but he couldn't say he'd expected to hear it from Aoi first. "You think peeing for someone means you love them?" he joked feebly.

"No! I just meant because you laugh and smile much more since you started going out with her," she explained, and still Natsume didn't say reply. "I bet you do," she elaborated. "You act just like it." Aoi had watched the TV-Dramas; she knew what was going on.

"I..."

Aoi giggled as he trailed off, and then said, "You are hopeless, oni-chan. Have you told her?"

"You should shut up," Natsume said darkly, but they both knew it was simply because he didn't want to answer. _No_, was the answer to the last question, but the thought of actually doing it was scarier than anything he'd ever considered before. Natsume's head had always led things for him, but slowly his heart was overtaking on the inside lane. He wasn't sure if he liked it; he felt like he was losing control.

That didn't mean it wasn't true, though, and the point remained that he was probably in love with her.

Yes, Hyuga Natsume was in love with Sakura Mikan.

* * *

I am totally including other characters and _everything :D _

Oh yes, the earring Mikan put on him is the one we see Natsume wearing in the manga/anime. Silly plot details FTW.

Leave a review please, and et cetera et cetera. Thank you to everyone who _has _reviewed, I read each and every one of them, and if want to know anything I'll definitely reply, okay?


	28. XXVIII

Updated! It's a bit of a shakeup, but baaaaaw this story is my brain, unprocessed, so it's not like I don't expect it. I'm just having fun.

Sorry to Crimson Memories for not being able to get Hotaru in this chapter :(

* * *

It seemed like nothing could go wrong – a week past and Natsume was presented with a (I told you so) clean bill of health, and Mikan went on the pill. She _had _refused to do 'anything' with him that week, but it was because she was on her period, as opposed to mad with him.

Natsume expressed a great deal of surprise at being refused in this way – he had never _thought _about that before. He was even more surprised to know Mikan had been selectively 'making' their opportunities for sex around her menstrual cycle, and attempted to make a fight out of it. The attempts failed, in the end, when she tied his hands together around the back of a chair and provided him with relief though _other _channels.

He became even surer, during this time, that he was quite realistically and genuinely in love with her. He couldn't _say _it, though; he had no idea how she felt, and he was most definitely not going to confess if he didn't know how she would take it. Rejection had never stood well by him, ever.

But that didn't mean things didn't seem _perfect_ – sure, they still had spats from time to time, and she complained about his overbearing hand on their sex life. For example, in his book, no sex because of TMI meant double the alternative routes (Mikan _was _getting quite good at giving head now – lots of practice), and even when she tried to say no he wheedled it out of her one way or another.

Even if they still had the sex drive of March Hares, which they _did_, the intimacy was only strengthened by this; knowing a body so well you became comfortable with it.

"Morning," she said sweetly to him on any number of given mornings.

"Hey," he would be likely to say back, and, extending an arm, would lock her neck and drag her against him – be it in a classroom, corridor or pathway. She, being perfectly aware of the situation, would make sure she was in the right places and facing the right way for the kiss. Minty, most of the time and tinged with the smell of sleep; this meeting of their lips was ingrained in their morning routine: a reminder of each other in their lives.

However, the weeks were passing fast, and graduation grew closer and closer. It occurred to Natsume that although he helped Mikan study for university entrance, he actually had no idea where she was going.

"Where _are _you going?" he asked one day; he was fulfilling his usual role in the library and she had decided to hang around and be a nuisance.

"What?" she replied from across the room, where she had been attempting to nap in an armchair.

"Which university," he said.

"Well, if I do actually get in," she started, and then the colour suddenly drained from her face and she went silent.

"Eh, what's that?" he said curiously. "You're not answering me." Mikan suddenly stood up and crossed the room to his desk, hopping up on it and putting her feet in his lap.

"What does it matter?" she remarked cheerfully, and in one movement he grabbed her ankles and yanked her off the desk, and she yelped as she fell to the floor.

"What, what is it?" he hissed; if there was something she didn't want to tell him, that would mean that it was bad for them.

"Well…" she murmured awkwardly, as if she'd remembered something awful, was trying to break the news of a death to someone . "I'd always kinda planned… and I mean I didn't _think _anything would change and…"

"What?" he demanded; things couldn't change now, not when they were going well. Not when he loved her.

"I was… gonna go to university… in Hokkaido," she murmured; eyes on the floor.

Natsume felt something crack inside.

"You can't," he said stonily, knowing that she would object to this.

"I'm sorry," she simpered. "I mean, it's not the end of the world; there will still be the time between graduation and…"

"You _can't_," he restated.

"I can!" she snapped suddenly. "I mean," she said a little softer, "that you can't tell me what to do."

"You're moving away?" he said bluntly. "In what, two, three months?"

"I'm still going to come back down to visit; I promised Hotaru!" she said hopefully. She had promised all her friends she wouldn't be away forever, but when her mom had moved away it had been on the assumption that it would just be so she could finish school in Tokyo, and then move up with the rest of them. "This is my _future_, Natsume," she pleaded.

"I can't do a long-distance relationship," he stated, and her look turned sour.

"Well it makes it harder for _everyone _then, doesn't it?!" she growled. "If you won't even _consider…_"

"It's not _won't _consider," he informed her. "It's _can't_." His hands found whatever they could of her – her waist, in this case – and held it tightly. "I just couldn't do it." He looked up at her, and she was reminded that this was the guy who cheated on her because she was holding back on him too long; he was _very _sexualised (and he'd passed it onto her, as well) and in her heart she understood what he meant.

He simply wouldn't be able to stay faithful if they had to part like that. Even if he hated himself for it.

"Well… I don't know then, do I?" she whispered. "I'm going to go. I _have _to go."

"When?" he demanded.

"Well, after… after graduation had died down. You know, all the parties and stuff." Natsume felt fear, real fear, as she spoke. This _couldn't _be happening. Not now.

"And what about me?" he said spitefully, and she gave him an icy look.

"I don't know, I'm not responsible for you; _you _are," she retorted.

"But if you're moving to the other side of Japan!" he burst angrily, and realizing how needy he sounded quietened down. "If you're leaving," he murmured, "what am _I _supposed to do." He winced at how pathetic he sounded, even to himself.

"I don't know," she said softly, and he felt her putting her hands on his arms. In all truth _she _hadn't thought about it like this yet, she just hadn't put two and two together, as _stupid _as it sounded. But she couldn't give up on her future for the sake of one guy, and they hadn't even been going out for that long. "I really don't know."

They'd been through too much to let it go like this, but what were they _supposed _to do? She hadn't even applied to any universities in the city. She nearly cried out when he grabbed her and yanked her close – his forehead against her breastbone and his breath warm through her shirt.

"Think of something," he pleaded.

"There's nothing _to _think of," she replied. "I thought I was going to be sing… I mean, I never thought something like _you _would happen now, or so quickly." She put her hands on top of his head and ran her fingers through his hair. "There's two choices, aren't there?" she said clearly. "Try to make it work, or call it off and maybe we'll meet again."

"What about the one where you stay?" he mumbled into her stomach, but he felt the sad way she petted him.

"That's not one," she saidsadly. "What am I supposed to do here? I can't get into any of the universities now. Work? Get a full time job? I don't want to be stuck at that level of employment for the rest of my life. My mom... wanted to go to Uni, but she had _me_. I always thought I'd go to university for the both of us, you know? Live out her dreams too. I _have _to go, Natsume, but I know… what you're like," she added unhappily. "Wouldn't it be… you know, better, if we just try to wind it down now?"

No, no, _no_, he didn't want to wind it down.

"How do you mean?" he said, much to his heart's protest.

"When I visit, _sure_, we can still… and _stuff_," she explained hesitantly. "But it'll be too hard trying to keep it together and not, well, do other _stuff_, if we're that far apart.

"Why did this have to happen now!" he shouted suddenly. "Why didn't you say anything before?!" _Before I fell in love with you_, he meant.

"I didn't think!" she argued. "I didn't _want _to think, I guess. _You _took my mind off everything."

"Lot of good it's done us!" he bit. "So this is it? We've got a timer all over again. How long before you leave to go fuck around in Hokkaido."

"How long before you go back to fucking everything that moves _here_!" she hissed. "It's not been that long; I've been with people longer than this and we can break up better than this."

"We're breaking up?" he asked, suddenly intensely worried, but sounding angry.

"No," she shot; dear god, that was the last thing she wanted. "But… you know I'm going to have to go. I _need _to go to university, I want a proper _life, _not some minimum income breadline existance." Mikan had grown up on that kind of income, it was not nice, and it was not what she wanted. She knew how hard it was, and how badly it had affected her mom.

"Why couldn't you transfer?" he suggested. "Stay in Tokyo."

"I can't afford it," she pleaded: Tokyo _was _expensive. "I want to see my mom again, I want to be close to my family."

What about _me_? Thought Natsume, and then wondered just why he seemed to think she should consider him family. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, weren't they? Nothing more.

"This… is shit," he muttered. "This is so much shit."

"I know," she emphasised. "If there were a way around it I'd try, but this is just _it_, Natsume."

"Why now?" he snapped again, reverting to the argument from before. "Why did you have to mention all this _now?! _Why couldn't you have said at the time!?"

"There _wasn't _a 'time'," she replied. "It was decided before I even _knew _you."

"Shit," he cursed. "This sucks." He squeezed her tighter, and she had the notion that he was clinging to her to try and fight off any triggers that felt like going off.

They'd been doing so _well_. All their counsellors had been pleased with the massive improvement in them both since, well, each other. Even Persona was laying off a little, because neither of them had breached their orders once since they really got close, and as far as the Academy was concerned with people like _them_ anything that worked couldn't be a bad thing.

Mikan tried not to think about what might happen if they separated again.

Then, she told herself to pull it together; he was a guy, nothing special, the world was full of them. He was mean anyway, and pushy, and a lot of things that weren't that great at all.

"I'm not saying we need to, like, break up," she said quietly, and couldn't mean anything _more_ – they were not going to break up after everything. God, what had she been _thinking?! _Why had she gone on the pill? Why had she stopped _thinking _about it? When had she forgotten? "We just need to… make it… less hard," she choked, "when it does happen."

"This isn't fair," he said moodily.

"_Life _isn't fair," she said. "If you really wanted to, I don't mind trying to keep it going after I move, but you…"

"You know I can't do that," he murmured, and that feeling like he was about to collapse came back again. He told himself to get a grip, this was not the end of the world, she was just a girl – like any other – and he would be perfectly able to go on without her. He was not that sad. "I think you have a class now," he said coldly, and she – knowing there was no such class – took the hint and backed away.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I just… forgot."

"Airhead," he said sharply, but it was not a wound intended to hurt.

"I'll… uh, see you really soon, okay?" They both knew that a bit of time apart was the only thing that would stop them going completely nuts at each other. If they were going to be breaking up – which in the end they were – then re-learning how to be on their own would be important.

This didn't mean they'd have to call everything off right away, she told herself; they'd just, well, tone it down. Lessen the dependence. His parents hated her anyway, they'd be glad for it. Ruka would probably do better too, as he'd have his best friend back properly.

She might miss Aoi a little, but she'd miss all her friends. It would… wouldn't be the _end_. She was well aware that when she _did _come back to visit, things would end up like that night after the gig all over again, and even the thought of _that _was some salvation.

They would have to go back to normal contraception, knowing him, and she got angry with herself for stupidly thinking time would go on forever like this, and that her future just wouldn't arrive.

Natsume, meanwhile, locked the Library, throwing everyone out, and then sat in the empty hall just concentrating on breathing in and out. This was awful, really awful, and he could _not _help being absolutely furious with her.

How could she _do _this? Make all this and then _forget _so easily about something that would destroy every last piece? There was _no _way he'd be able to stay faithful, obviously, and she knew that as well as he did. Why did they have to get so far, do so _much_? Why did he have to fall in love with her before she _remembered _they wouldn't be able to stay together for more than another two months?

This was why he _hated _her sometimes, and it was that anger that gave him the idea. If he could just concentrate on all those things that drove him nuts, made sure only to focus on the things he hated; he'd be able to do it.

He could just… go back to how he was before. When he didn't care, when it was all a game. He'd stopped playing it, but he could go back in whenever he wanted, right?

He could do it, and he would _not _be the loser of this game. This who-breaks-down-the-most-when-you-leave game; he would win, he _always _won.

Mikan noticed the change the next time they met up. He seemed more detached, and he stopped looking at her so much. He still touched her just as much, but it was more convenient, more I-couldn't-really-care-less, and more like he was at the beginning of their relationship.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

"Yeah," he clipped. "I'm fine." He looked away. "If you mean about… _that_, well, I realized it's not, like, that big a deal, really." He looked back at her, but didn't meet her eyes. "We were concentrating on _just us_, weren't we? The world is bigger than that." He shrugged. "I've got to go to university too, for the first time I'll get _out _of that fucking Academy." Natsume had been accepted into one of the top universities, completely unatached to the Alice Academy; he was smart enough to be value for the amount of risks he posed, and it was just as obvious to him that he had to stay as it was to her that she had to go.

"Yeah," she murmured; hurt, but not wanting to show it. "You're right." She felt the change, as subtle as it was, and it was not pleasant. It was awful, actually, but she knew that if she could do the same, then they'd be set. She could leave him like this; she _knew _what he was doing, and she knew that he was making it easier to part. They'd said nothing would change, but it was obvious that softening the blow would take effect immediately. It would take time as it was, but if they could bluff it into looking like it didn't matter, then perhaps she wouldn't have her heart broken.

However, he turned suddenly and kissed her in the middle of a sentence about something so petty and insignificant neither could remember it, and to their relief, and chagrin, the passion was still as strong as ever. He kissed her harder, and his hands closed like vices over any skin he could find. She knotted one hand in his hair, and the other – skirting past the earring he was _still _wearing – grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. They could make the motions of not caring but their bodies would be harder to fool.

Kissing on the bench they'd stopped at to chat for a while before they made their own ways' home, he dragged her onto his lap and held her like he might if they were having sex. It was a powerful reminder, and their tongues interlaced even more deeply.

"You're on it now, aren't you?" he muttered hotly.

"Mmmn," she moaned her yes into his mouth.

"And it's _finished_ now, hasn't it?" he added a little awkwardly, and she just nodded as their lips reconnected. "Do you want to come back to mine?" he clipped. They were _failing _at turning the heat down, but it was early days yet. Maybe just one more fuck like that and they could do it more convincingly? The one measure was going to his place instead of hers; he didn't need to feel anymore like that was more of a home than his, so maybe by staying away he could forget a little.

"Oh god yes," she choked, and they staggered onto his route home; spending most of the journey locked fiercely in each other's embrace.

Aoi had some kind of after school club, it seemed, and the house was otherwise empty as they burst through the door. Mikan maintained some dignity in suggesting they find an actual _room _instead of just doing it on the floor – nice as that was in their experience.

It wasn't just her crying his name as they bundled through the door to his room and rolled onto the bed – unable to come to a consensus on who was doing what, and ending up in a messy tangle that kept swapping over whenever one of them weakened or surged – it was him as well; the name _Mikan _burning his lips over and over – even as he knew how much it would hurt to love it, and _her_, he wouldn't stop. He knew for sure he couldn't tell her now, but at least he could _feel _it.

That said, it was quite cold out, so once they were _sans _clothes he did drag his blankets around them, but they ended up just as coiled and tangled as their bodies were.

They were so intensely messed up and mixed up, the first of what would probably be a lot of awful but amazing goodbye fucks, that they did not notice a number of things.

Cars in the driveway, front doors closing, footsteps on staircases and squeaky floorboards, ears at the door of his room, door-handles turning made them take just a _little _bit of notice, but it wasn't until the shocked and disgusted voice came calling, "Natsume?!" and it was _not _Mikan's, did they realize how bloody fucked they were.

* * *

Uh-_ohhhhhh_!

Leave a review please, there was less explicit sex in this chapter and things are not-so-perfectmebe?


	29. XXIX

I did say the honeymoon wouldn't last forever...

* * *

_"I'm sorry."_

Mikan had been saying it too much, recently. It make Natsume worry; it sounded like she was going away or something.

Oh, yes. So she was.

Looking back on it, he felt like the argument over getting tested for STDs and the pill had been the stupidest fucking thing ever. He'd been annoyed about _that? _God, he'd been ignorant.

Because now things had become just as fucked up as they could possible be, and it had blown in out of _nowhere _all at once.

_Step one_; Mikan announced that she was going to University on the other side of Japan, and that obviously they would break up when that happened. Mikan couldn't toss in her _future _just so they could have regular sex, and he had a place at one of the top universities in Tokyo, so he was as rooted to this city as she was to Hokkaido.

_Step two; _in stupid childishness, he shut up as much of his emotions as he could and tried to make it seem like he didn't care about step one – after all, begging had not worked, so he saw no need to continue to play the stupid hound to her.

_Step three_; he still loved her, and when they kissed and made love (that _was _what it was now) it was obvious, as their bodies betrayed all the cold and hurtful things they said.

_Step four_; his mother walked in on them having step three, and went, to coin a term, 'batshit crazy'.

Mikan said later on that it was probably for the best; that his parents were doing what they were too weak to do, and with less than a week to graduation – and Mikan leaving three days after that – Natsume almost didn't mind that his parents were locking him in his room every night to stop him going out.

For one it stopped him going to Mikan and making it all harder, and for two it stopped him going out to burn things. If there was a time when he should not be trusted with fire, it was now.

He lay in his room, staring up at the ceiling, talking his heart out of this situation as best he could. He remembered when he last saw Mikan, after having sex in this bed.

"_Natsume?!" _his mother had _screamed_, and Mikan had screamed herself, while he swore.

"Fuck off!" he snarled – even if it was his mother, he response was not going to differenciate between people. The door slammed, perhaps out of shock more than anything else, and they _kinda _finished, but after they dressed again (very awkwardly) Mikan had that awful look again, like she was about to burst into tears.

"Just, walk straight out," he said quietly. "Don't stop, even if she yells at you; I'll deal with it."

"Why.... How did this happen?" she whispered, and in a huge moment of weakness he put his arm around her and hugged her. He didn't want her to leave, but he knew it was best for her. He didn't want to be selfish and ruin her future just because of his own feelings, but it felt like he wouldn't be able to go on without her.

"Just... go," he murmured into her hair, his mouth saying words his heart hated to hear him say. "_Leave_." He heard her breath hitch, and after a few seconds of returning his embrace tenfold she stood up, tearing herself away and shaking him off, and then more-or-less ran out of the house. Natsume followed her downstairs.

"Leave it," he warned his mother as he watched the woman glare as Mikan ran past, opening her mouth in prepration. "I'm the one you want, right?"

"You dared to bring _that girl _back into our house!" his mother exploded, and a whole lot of other stuff was said that Natsume didn't care to pay too much attention to. "And not only that, Natsume, but you were doing...doing!" Her face flushed – out of fury – and the words she sought wouldn't come.

"We were having sex," he said coldly. "We're eighteen, it's allowed. And it's not the first time, but... it may well be the last." His mother cocked an eyebrow; she was interested. "She's... leaving, soon," he explained acidly. "Moving up north."

"Ohh," his mother said sinisterly. "So that means?"

"You'll get your way after all," he muttered; wondering why he felt so strange. Maybe he couldn't do this.

"Go back to your room," she commanded shrilly. "I will speak to your father, and we will discuss an appropriate punishment." Natsume smirked; no punishment would be bad, not compared to losing her. Pity it was meant to be.

When he heard the lock on his room – a deadbolt that was installed when they moved in because of his 'Alice' – he felt somewhat like a caged animal, but at least he felt secure. Not happy, but there wasn't anything he could do _here_.

This was where he had remained until graduation. He was allowed out to school, but he had to be back straight away, and his father had even gone so far as to arrange a taxi to pick him up – the driver obviously paid to make sure he was taken to his house and watched him go inside.

He didn't bother going back out, he didn't want to anymore. He and Mikan had _said _they didn't have to break up straight away, but it was nearly time anyway, and from the moment they'd said those deadly words, it was over.

* * *

He'd never expected to enjoy graduation really – he didn't see the point in it, and he didn't share the same joy in leaving school as other students; he liked to learn, and _he _knew university was just around the corner. It was nothing to get so excited about.

That said, it did mean he got to see her again. One last time. He spotted her with Sumire, and his legs moved and mouth called to her before his brain could stop them - his heart screaming out for her. She saw him, and the look of panic flashed between them.

"Hey," she said awkwardly.

"Yeah," he replied, and they fell into an awful silence.

"I've got an idea," she said quietly, trying to ignore the (well-informed and up to date) people watching them. "How about we just pretend it's all normal?"

"Huh?"

"Like I'm not going away, and your not grounded every hour of every day," she elaborated hopefully. "Pretend it was as good as, oh, say, the week before last?" They smiled a little, remembering how quickly their relationship seemed to be able to switch. The week before last had been _golden, _and now they knew they were going to have to say goodbye.

"I..." he started, staring at her. "Sorry," he said shortly, just after she tried to reach out for him 'normally'. "I can't." He saw her face fall. He couldn't, he couldn't pretend _now_, it would just remind him of the reasons why he loved her, and make the inevitable feel even worse.

"Oh," she mumbled, and he could see how hurt she was. He helped her out by turning and walking away. Although, at the last minute his willpower deserted him and he span around, grabbed her, and gave her _one last kiss _for the record. Just one more.

"Bye," he said casually, like they were going to meet again tomorrow. They weren't. They wouldn't. Oh hell, he might never see her again.

He couldn't think that, he'd go insane. He'd go pyro.

He didn't go out to any of the graduation parties – he was never invited, and he was not interested anyway. He didn't feel like it either. No, he definitely didn't feel like going out and having fun.

Oh, he did know what he did feel like, actually – aside from _shit_.

* * *

It was a routine, that much was true, but it was not one he'd used in a while. He had his parents to dodge, and deadbolts to bribe-little-sisters to take off, and dodgy-don't-know-your-face-here stores to shop in.

This wasn't the girl-chasing routine; that was still dead as long as he knew everyone would remind him of _her_, and all he wanted to do was forget. This was the _old _one. The reason the lock was on his door in the first place.

At first he only started small – little fires, pieces of wood, fuel-soaked rags. He was a bit rusty at first, and burnt himself badly more a few times, but it all came back quickly. He bought aerosols, lighter fuel, wax, firelighters, coal, blowtorches, _petrol _when he could get his hands on it, and he would -- amongst many other things -- trail long strips of the things across walls and light one end; if he got it just right he could make some good scorch marks, and stop the thought for a few beautiful, flame-engulfed seconds.

Once, just once, he was wandering around some dead open space near where he lived, and in a fit of irritation he stamped the top off one of his cans and poured it into a particular shape along the ground. He took one of the lighters – he had about twelve now – with low fuel and pulled down the gas release toggle with insulation tape (so it would stay lit), sparked the flint and then dropped it on the track. The thing lit up brilliantly, and there was a small pop as the lighter exploded/melted.

He stared at his creation hypnotically; a great burning heart in the middle of nowhere. How disgustingly ironic. He wondered what she'd make of it, and then tossed the thought away like an empty canister. She wasn't here now: that was why he was _here_. It didn't matter; he didn't think anymore. Thinking hurt too much.

He _did _know he wouldn't be satisfied with small things like that for long, and he did know eventually his parents would recognise the smell of smoke and solvents. He considered time and time again going out to find someone to pull, to try to change the balance back, but he could never get past the nearest combustible. His triggers were too strong – previously he'd used lust as a decrease on his Alice, but it _was _strong, and when it was like this there was nothing he could do.

Not without her.

He lost track of days or nights – Ruka, bless him, realized what was going on and at least tried to stop him, but Natsume kept him away as best he could. They would still hang out, but he would go out afterwards and torch something without a second glance, and Ruka knew he could do _nothing _to stop it. That was the problem with Alices.

He wasn't quite sure if it had been a week or two since graduation, but it had definitely been at least one since Mikan left. He hadn't seen her since that day, she was obviously – popular as she was – very busy after graduation. He was at home for once, wet from showering lighter fuel off his body. He'd hit up a trash can today; it had been _asking _for it, overflowing with cardboard and full of dents where kids had been kicking it. The first in a while. He lit the fucker and sat there on the street watching it burn; no pleasure or pain, just an action he had to do; an itch he had to scratch.

Someone once said that for him, it was like he didn't like his inside, so he destroyed things on the outside, but he never really bought it. He just liked setting shit on fire.

He nearly didn't hear his phone ringing, but when he finally recognised what the strange sound was, he dived for the device. People didn't call him; Ruka called his home, and she didn't call him at all now.

Well, until now.

"...Mikan?" he said curiously, as he answered the call – recognising the caller ID. He heard nothing. "Mikan?" he said again. "Are you there?" He heard a tiny sound, but it was a voice that he'd heard so well he couldn't forget it if he _tried_.

"You're there, I _know _you are," he said hurtfully. "What do you want?"

"I can't call you without a reason?!" she snapped, and his heart wrenched to hear the girl he knew again.

"Not anymore," he snarled. "How's it up there?"

"It's great!" she spat. "I'm... having a great time."

"Glad to hear it," he said as insincerely as could possibly be expressed. "So, what do you want from me?" he asked cruelly.

"I..." she said a little less aggressively, and Natsume heard something so slight in her voice. A tiny whine, or a slight gasp; he couldn't be sure.

"Mikan?" he said softly. "Hey? What's that?"

"N-nothing," she murmured, but the stutter told him what he both did and didn't want to know.

"Fuck, are you crying?" he demanded weakly, and he heard another broken sound that told him he was right.

"I'm n-not!" she yelled, but her voice trembled and he knew she was lying.

"Don't bullshit me," he said coldly. "Why are you calling?"

"I...I..." She didn't bother to hide it, and let a few horrible sobs slip out, her hand muffling her mouth. She didn't _mean _to cry, but she'd heard his voice and it had just made everything feel even worse, and when they started _arguing_, it pushed her over the line. "Can't I even _miss _you, huh?" she sobbed, and he heard the phone bump as she put it down and cried into her hands harder. This was the first time he'd _ever _known her to cry, and he hadn't said a nice thing yet. He had reverted too quickly, and all the cruelty had come back out of him... what was _wrong _with him?

"Fuck," he swore, and eventually the sounds got louder as she picked up the phone again. "Hey? Mikan?" he said tentatively, and heard her sniffling. "Don't cry, seriously, _please_ don't," he pleaded.

"Do you even care?" she wept. "It doesn't sound like it. I miss you _so much, _you know_."_

"You think I don't care?" he scoffed. "I've been going out of my _fucking head_, okay? I only sound lucid now because I've just been out."

"Out?" she repeated accusingly. "Have fun with that?" He realized she must have thought he was out with a girl, and smirked.

"None at all," he said icily. "I reek of smoke." He was quiet for a moment, waiting to see if she took it in, and then with a little squeak she got it.

"No, wait, you've been--?" she said a little too quickly.

"Whenever I can," he growled – after all, she was just about the only person he could trust to be open with stuff like this – what was she going to do? "You pulled _all _the triggers. I'm fucked."

He heard her crying more, and he hated the sound so much. Screw it if he'd just come back home; he'd go back out again. He'd need it after this.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I wish it wasn't like this, Na... Natsume. _Fuck_, why did we do this!?" she shouted, sounding more angry at herself than him. "I don't even know why I'm doing what I'm doing anymore, I left my brain back in Tokyo, you dick!" She cried even harder, and he brought the phone away from his ear – it hurt too much to listen to it.

"Mikan, just..." he said brokenly. "God, I don't know! I need to go," he muttered as he stood up, grabbing his bag and trying to head back out. "I need to get out of here."

"Don't go!" she yelled through the phone.

"I'm not, I'm just leaving my house," he explained, keeping the phone to his ear.

"No, I mean _that_, don't do it, Natsume! I'll... feel even _worse _if I know I'm doing this to you," she begged. "Stay away from it, please, for _me_."

"For you?!" he snarled. "For you?! Fuck you! You left! I'm doing whatever it takes to stop me losing it, because _you left _and you were about the only fucking thing that made me at least_ hope _I was normal!" He wrenched open his door and slammed it behind him. "You never told me about this fucking _massive _thing, just like you never tell me anything, and you _fucked off _at the worst possible time. You want me to be strong? Well you shouldn't have left, babe. Because there's not even an _Academy _to stop me now." He stormed down the street and heard her crying again on the other end of the line.

"You better hope I'm all right by tomorrow," he hissed, feeling the urge rocket around his body - trying to stop it now would be like trying to stop an avalanche with a windbreaker. "Because I have no idea at all." He hung up the phone – much to her protests (although he didn't hear them) – and turned it off. He didn't want her calling back, he couldn't handle it anymore.

The last time he ever felt this bad was the time at the Academy. The one that got him that bad reputation. He barely remembers _what _triggered it, although he recalls something involving a gang of boys from school and falling into a few dustbins with his face; they'd been on the piss and recognised him, he thinks. The Alice clouded a lot of it over, or his own memory.

He knew they wouldn't be _in _the school, but the stuff they yelled as they beat him up – just because he was a kid in their school, younger, and a bit bookish – was the worst trigger he'd had in his life. He turned all his anger for them onto the Academy, that _place _that had ruined his life, and he hardly recalls the things he did.

He remembers petrol and rags of builders' sheets, and he recalls burning his hand as he tried to pull a canister of lighter fuel out of a bin when he dropped it, and then legging it as the thing exploded. He remembers seeing a whole line light up in flames, and he remembers throwing the rest of the petrol over one of the buildings and tossing a lighter in with it before legging it.

He _vaguely _remembers telling someone there was a fire at the school as he realized what he might have done, and he clearly remembers being arrested. He told _them _he remembered nothing, knew nothing, and kept his mouth shut until Persona arrived – Persona was good at dealing with the police, and it was his manipulation that got him let off. Otherwise he would've gone to a juvenile prison. That was one of the reasons Persona picked on him, hated him, he knew Natsume deserved to be in prison, and he knew how rotten he really was.

Persona wasn't here now, though, and Natsume had his hatred all to himself. Well, to himself, and to the fire.

He was a fool to ever think he was _free _from this, he thought as he spent the last of his money in a dodgy convenience store, and gathered a huge pile of things for a fire to end all fires. A stupid lovestruck fool.

* * *

I... don't really have much to say, today. In response to reviewer suggestions/protests it's really not plausible for Natsume or Mikan to move to be together - they are just rooted apart, and changing that would be really stupid future-wise for them.

I don't know how this thing is even going anymore, lol, it's just _happening_. So let me know what you think. Better than the lovey-dovey stuff? Review.


	30. XXX

Dedicated to CrimsonMemories, who really likes a certain cold-hearted lady in this story.

* * *

There are things Natsume does and doesn't remember, or, more like things that he can recall, and the situations surrounding them, which are foggier.

He remembers the call, and he remembers losing _badly _to his Alice, but he cannot quite recall the specifics that took him to the wire-fenced dumping ground; a few shabby bins and fly-tipped junk he only hoped to god there weren't any homeless people sleeping in. He knows what he did and how he did it, but trying to remember it he only comes up with an imagined version of what he did.

He snaps back when he started flame-throwing – a lighter taped to an aerosol can is surprisingly effective – and he was amused for a while by scorching the paint off some of the bins.

Luckily, or unluckily, it depended on your perspective, someone had recently dumped a sofa in this waste-heap (try as he had to erase the locations from his mind, he still knew all the best places off by heart), and his next hit was to coat it in lighter fuel and set it on fire with matches: 'old skool' pyro, or so to speak. He liked the way the phosphorus flashed as it lit.

He remembers the point at which he got bored with flame-throwing, and simply started tossing the cans onto the sofa. He realizes now that it was not the best idea, considering they explode. He supposed that was why his arm was bleeding now. And his stomach.

It must have hurt, but everything hurt, so there was no differentiation. He'd gone out because he believed that giving into his Alice would bring him the relief he wanted; after talking to Mikan he wanted to stop what he was feeling.

The worst thing was that it _didn't_. That was probably why he never got close to anything with _people _in it. If there was one thing he'd beaten in counselling it was doing anything that could hurt people. Sure, the Academy didn't have anyone in at this time of night, but that wasn't the place he had a problem with, and he knew another attack would put him behind bars. _Real _prison bars.

This was just destruction where he could best wreck it: as big a mess as he could create without setting off too many alarms.

But it still didn't change _anything_, and as he threw the last of his wasted money on the fire – a few half-empty lighter fuel cans, and with a cough he sloshed the petrol (for 'lawnmowers') he'd bought over the biggest fire he'd built, which was over the charred frame of the old sofa.

That _really _got the thing going, and for a second everything fired up so bright he couldn't even _see, _and even when that faded spots danced in front of his eyes. For that _second_ he was free of it all, but it was a pyrrhic victory, because the moment it ended he saw – clearer than ever before – how utterly fucked he was like this.

He fell to his knees, scuffing them in the dirt, and covered his face with his hand. Around that time one of the canisters finally popped, and red-hot debris flew out and lightly coated his fire-facing side. Burning on his hands let him know that he had probably just saved his eyes, and as he rolled backwards in shock and dragged newly-raw skin against the earth, he knew this was no replacement.

This was revenge. Revenge on _him_. He'd sought vengeance on Mikan, and now he loved her so much it was tearing him apart. How fitting. Love is Vengance.

He groaned into the dirt; it was in his eyes, his nose, his hair. But it was around now that he heard the steps, and the voices of adults.

"Oi! What the fuck is that?!" came the shout, and in an instant Natusme's flight-hormones shot around his body. He was on his feet in seconds – to hell with the pain – and running fast towards the fence; he knew they would be chasing him, so he headed towards a pile of rubbish and spring-boarded off it, grabbing the top of the fence and scrambling over it.

He could hear them behind him, but he was pretty sure he'd get away with it, as he tore down the dark alleyways with streams of water streaking out from his eyes – from the smoke, of course. He was too fast for them, and they had just been passers-by, it seemed.

Still, this did not change the fact that he knew this wasn't going to work, and he was going to have to do _something _before he just burnt up and died somewhere.

* * *

"Imai-san, there is a call for you," a robotic voice told Hotaru Imai, and she spun around on her office chair towards the phone. There was an eighty-four percent chance that it was Mikan, she estimated.

"Hello," she said.

"Imai?" came a hoarse crackle of a voice, and Hotaru nearly dropped the phone.

"Who is this?" she asked worriedly.

"Hyuuga Natsume," was the reply. "I am in your neighbourhood; this is terrible for me to ask, but I need your help." He coughed loudly, and Hotaru did not doubt his last statement – he sounded very ill.

"Why are you calling me, Hyuuga Natume?" she said coldly. "How did you get this number?"

"I..." He coughed again. "It's a long story, but I traced you from an article online." Another cough; he was surprised they even let him into that internet cafe. "I really need your help, Imai. It's about Mikan." Hotaru was still silent, but there was a more attentive air to it after he'd dropped the important name.

"What about Mikan?" she asked.

"I just..." he croaked. "I mean... she's gone and..."

"I know she has gone away," Hotaru said. "What of it?"

"I can't stand it," he confessed bitterly – there was no point lying to this girl. "I have to tell her something."

Hotaru was quiet again for a few moments, and then she answered him.

"I will give you my address, and you must give me your location, and I will explain the fastest route," she said casually, and even Natsume was a little surprised by her willingness to offer up information; he would get to the bottom of it later.

Hotaru was very curious as to what Natsume was doing, but if her predictions were right it was in her best interests to help him. That was why she let him into her home – the annexe in which she had her lab had separate entrances and exits to the rest of her house, and her parents were asleep already. However, she did not expect what she saw.

"What... happened to you?" she said in surprise, and stared at Natsume.

"Just _shit_," he muttered, and rubbed his face with a hand. "I have to get to her," he explained. "She must have given you her address, right?"

"You know her address."

"I mean her new one," he said. "In Hokkaido." Hotaru watched him.

"Surely you cannot mean?" she said in confusion.

"Even if I had to cross an ocean I'd get to her," he said sternly. "I have to _see _her." Hotaru could see that Natsume wasn't in a state to do much, but for the first time in quite a while she believed herself to be the more functional of Alices, and that did not happen often.

"You are bleeding," she told him. "You cannot go like this." She did not like it, but she knew what she was going to have to do. It wasn't so bad with Natsume; she felt like she could trust him – if Mikan did, then she would. "Come inside," she instructed, and after a stare-out Natsume gave in.

"Sit there," she said, pointing to a stool in one of the smaller rooms. "I will not be long."

Natsume did as he was told, and was even more surprised to see Hotaru return with a medical kit in her hands.

"I don't need..." he tried to make excuses for himself, but Hotaru would not hear it.

"You are bleeding," she re-stated. "You cannot cross Japan with second degree burns and other injuries." She stepped forwards to him. "Do not..." she said a little uncertainly. "Do not move, understand?" With this, she reached out and touched his arm. Natsume froze, and barely moved so much as a muscle as Hotaru pulled up his sleeve; revealing a messily clotting cut he wasn't quite sure how he got.

He realized he must be in a real state for Imai to breach this huge barrier for her.

"Why... are you doing this?" he asked quietly, as she cleaned and dressed the first of his cuts.

"You are going to travel to Hokkaido and see Mikan, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes," he replied.

"You," she broke off for a moment, as if carefully considering her words, "love her, don't you?" Natsume's breath hitched in his throat – this could be very important, he would be shooting himself in the foot to lie. So he nodded, in a tiny but just recognisable movement.

"So you are going to try to bring her back, aren't you?" Hotaru suggested, and Natsume shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "But I... just... have to go," he muttered brokenly.

"I also want Mikan to come back to Tokyo," Hotaru remarked. "I believe you are the one most likely to achieve that. By helping you, I can also help myself." Natsume smirked for a moment – there were some things that apparently did not change about Hotaru. Ever.

"Thank you," he said, and he could almost swear she averted her eyes from him on purpose.

"There is nothing worthy of thanks," she informed him coolly. "I am merely using you to satisfy my own goals."

"You... care for her really, don't you?" he said, quietly; an underhand statement.

"If..." She paused. "If there was one person I could ever... _love_... I believe there is a ninety-eight percent chance that is Mikan." She looked at Natsume – in the eyes – for no more than a second. "Perhaps we share that also," she said. Natsume smirked briefly; he doubted Hotaru and he loved Mikan in _exactly _the same way, because he was pretty sure they did not have nearly as much sex (or indeed any) as _he _had with her.

"So you want me to bring her back?" he suggested.

"Mikan has made the best choice for herself," Hotaru said, "but... if unseen circumstances were to necessitate her return to Tokyo, I would not be dissatisfied. Perhaps even to the contrary." She glanced at Natsume, but he seemed to be following her just fine. She found it somewhat relieving to speak with a person she did not have to explain things to – Natsume was intelligent enough to simply _understand_.

"Thank you, Imai," he said again, and Hotaru stiffened.

"It is not necessary to thank me," she said. "I do not understand what I am doing to require thanks."

"Well see... uh, never mind," Natsume mumbled. "I need to leave as soon as possi... _ow!_" he snarled as she suddenly wrapped an antiseptic dressing over one of his rawer wounds and it stung.

"You will need to take a train; do you have funds?" He shook his head. "I can lend you some. Would a hundred yen be sufficient." Natsume stifled a laugh, because he knew she was offering such a pitiable amount not because she was tight-fisted, but because she had little to no understanding of the functions of currency and value – an effect of her Alice.

"More than that," he simply replied.

"A million yen?"

Natsume spluttered. Where the hell did she have that kind of money?!

"A little less..." Eventually they came to an arrangement, and although unsure as to the value of currency, Natsume noticed that she was strict enough on charging interest and pursuing its return. In all fairness he wasn't in a position to complain, because she had at least offered to lend him money in the first place – he spent all of _his _on pyro equipment.

He let Imai patch up another gash he never realized he had – a tiny splinter of metal was between two of his ribs, and it was only the tiny bloodspot that led her to its discovery.

"This is contaminated metal," she remarked as she yanked the thing out; Natsume stayed still, as although Hotaru had conceded – and perhaps even become comfortable with – touching him, he doubted she would be ready for him to move suddenly and threaten to touch her. "It could have given you blood poisoning if left too long.... You should also schedule a tetanus vaccination." Natsume nodded, and waited until Hotaru had put him back into a better state. It was a rather unique experience for both of them, as the girl had a massive calming effect on him. She always seemed reserved and level-headed, and her calm handling of the situation passed onto him – it was hard to get worked up about something when there was another person completely under-reacting. He left her annex feeling more centered. He knew what he was going to do.

Even if he couldn't bring her back, at least he'd know he had tried... although the prospect of failure did not look good to him.

"Goodbye, Imai-san," he said at the doorway, "and tha... I will tell Mikan how you feel." He could've sworn that for just a flash Hotaru smiled, before she slammed the door in his face and went back to bed.

* * *

Natsume discovered the at the local train station that he was just in time for the last train into the city – thank god – and made it to the central station; however, there were no trains heading North until the next day. He didn't quite remember when he last slept, as he kept odd hours when he was on an Alice binge, but he did _not _feel like sleeping in a station.

However, it was not like he had a choice, and he ended up snatching a few awkward hours of rest on a cold bench. He got more sleep on the train the next day – he tried to take the next one available in the morning, but it was fully booked, so he had to wait for one later in the day, meaning he had to sit around the station even longer. He didn't eat (no money) and barely even moved; he was too run down to do anything except follow his _one _compulsion: find Mikan, confess.

Barely half an hour after he _finally _got a seat on a train heading north, he was asleep against the glass of the window; he had barely slept in over thirty hours, so he needed rest to get his head straight. Straight_er_, at least.

Hotaru had, of course, given him an address, and even provided a small map to help him find the locality Mikan's mother lived in – it shouldn't take him too long to get there, but it would probably be getting dark by the time he got there. He never was the best with directions.

But this was too important to fuck up, and slowly the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach grew. The light faded, but he got to the address he needed before it was completely dark – still finding it hard to believe that he'd actually _done _this, crossed the country, just to find her.

It was the right house, on the right street, so he only hoped that she was in. Quite a nice house, but nothing overstated. He walked up to the front door and stood there for a few moments to gather himself.

He wouldn't be able to think, he'd just have to come out and say it. He hoped that his feelings would guide him through it anyway – they'd taken him _here _already.

He rang the bell, and waited for a fear-filled minute until he heard footsteps behind the door.

"Mom! There's someone at the..." shouted a voice that was painfully, painfully familiar. Natsume couldn't hold it back now; he didn't come all this way to bottle it, so he bit his tongue and waited for her to realize who he was.

_No. No fucking way.

* * *

_The last line is basically Mikan. I seem to have run out of things to say in a/n, so leave a review please.


	31. XXXI

Sorry about the delay, I'm still here I swear. This is finished after the loud 'n proud Jigokuai yelled me something terrible (in a good way) to update ;)

Big emotional chapter is big and emotional.

* * *

He stood at the doorway, half dream, half reality. The smell of smoke was strong around him, like the cologne he used to wear, but more sinister – this scent was deadly, this scent threatened. He'd actually started wearing strong aftershaves to cover up this very smell, but now it was raw and unclouded; he had no such preprations.

His head was hung, but there was no mistaking who it was – in spite of the couldn't, wouldn't, _shouldn't _be here – that was her earring on his ear, and his body before her.

She was crying before she even knew what to do.

"What are you doing h–?" she gasped.

"I love you," he rasped; his voice hoarse, and gravelled by the fumes he'd been breathing in for too long. She couldn't believe her ears, let alone her eyes. This had to be a dream.

"You can't be..."

"I love you," he said it again, and looked up at her. It _was _Natsume, no mistake about that. "Don't do this to me," he pleaded suddenly. "I can't stand it."

In the space it took Mikan to release a breath he was against her; pushing her against the wall and pressing himself into the curve of her neck. She felt his breath against her skin, warm, and his body against her chest.

"Why are you here?" she whispered fearfully, and in the next movement found herself eye to eye with him.

"Are you _listening _to me?" he said angrily. "I _love_ you. Dammit, I've said it three times already!" Then he kissed her, and Mikan felt her own tears palming off on his face. When his hands curled around her waist, hugging her, she finally broke down, letting a jag of cries escape her chest.

"Why are you crying?" he murmured in confusion. "Stop, Mikan. Mikan, I'm _here_. I _love_ you." Again he kissed her, and she sensed her legs going weak underneath her. They ended up in a heap on the floor – the front door still wide open and the cold air chilling them both.

He couldn't understand; she was kissing him back, but she was also crying, and he'd said he loved her more times in a minute than he ever thought he'd say in his _life_, and she wouldn't even stand up straight. He thought it was going to be hard to say; everything he knew about himself and her made him think it would be _so hard _to actually confess his feelings, but the words were firecrackers on his tongue – eager to leap into the air without a second thought.

He lost count of how many times he said it, as he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the tears from her face. It was a murmur that replaced his voice, words that formed without effort.

"Stop it, _god_, stop it," he pleaded as she continued to cry, and he hugged her to him with a frustrated groan.

"This can't be real," he finally heard her whisper. "This _can't _be happening."

"It is," he said. "I'm here, I got your address and followed you, across the whole _country_." He tucked his hands around her thin frame and inhaled her – he _needed _this.

"Where?" she said. "Where did you get it?"

"Imai-san," he answered. "She... _look_, it's a long story." He was feeling something now, and although directly attached to love in this case, it was not simply that. He was as horny as hell. He pressed himself against her and put his lips next to her ear. "Can't we do it now?" He felt her _shudder _against him, and he knew she wanted it too.

"Please," he said, kissing whatever was close to him. He wanted not just to be inside her, in the literal sense of the word, but to just _crawl _into her. He wanted to to throw himself so deeply into her that he wouldn't have to worry about being parted from her, of even worry about having to be himself ever again: he wanted to breathe _her._

"Mikan?" someone said, and although Mikan tried to turn her face to look in the direction of the sound, Natsume wouldn't let her – engaging her face in other activities. "Ooooh," the person – a woman – said knowingly. Eventually a break was permitted where Natsume and Mikan could look towards their voyeur. A woman who looked rather like the girl Natsume was tangled with right now, and one he'd seen in photographs before.

Yuka Sakura-Kinemoto; Mikan's mother.

"So, you must be the boy stealing my daughter from me," Yuka said coolly, and for once Natsume's libido also cooled off.

* * *

It was a mess, it was all in a horrible mess. Natsume had an awful feeling that he was bleeding his heart everywhere, and in addition Mikan had not said _it _back to him once. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't love him back; he couldn't take rejection now - he simply wouldn't make it home.

"Mom," Mikan said quietly, trying to pull herself away, but Natsume held her firmly in place next to him.

"Don't think about it," he threatened, and then turned to meet Yuka's gaze. "Hyuga Natsume," he introduced himself. "I could say the same to you."

"What?" Yuka's brow furrowed; she did not follow him.

"You've stolen my girlfriend from me," he explained, squeezing Mikan so that she squeaked, and then leaning forwards to rest his face against her cheek.

"Parents are more important than boyfriends!" Mikan argued: half trying to get away, and half trying to wrap her legs around his waist.

"I couldn't carry on without telling you," Natsume said in frustration. He could've said the l-word again, as he seemed to be having a real blast with it recently, but with someone else watching, he suddenly felt a little more embarrassed. With Mikan intimacy was granted, but her mom was another story. "And _you're _more important to me than my parents." Mikan groaned, another tear escaping one of her eyes, and she fisted her hands in the back of his top. To hell if it stunk of god-knows-what and smoke and his _Alice_, she was breaking to pieces.

She couldn't hold out much longer, and in the end, she didn't. It was getting late, and the joint efforts of Natsume and her mother delayed any discussion of serious matters until the next morning. Obviously Natsume wasn't going anywhere now, and her mother - having been _that _age herself - was understanding enough to let it go unsaid that Natsume would be bunking with Mikan.

When there was nothing else that could be said or done, they simply went to bed. Or, more accurately, Natsume dragged her to bed as she provided directions.

She didn't stop crying though, or, more like she started again as she saw what had happened to him in her absence. As she pulled off his top between kisses, pressing her chilled skin against his, she felt the cuts, the scabs, the _bandages_. She held his forearm in her hands, and stared at him.

"Who did this?" she whispered in the quiet dark of her room.

"I did," he said stonily. She knew what he meant; she understood what he'd done to himself. His Alice had to be _that _dangerous, didn't it?

"Who bandaged it, I mean," she said.

"Imai," he answered, and Mikan nearly yelped with surprise.

"What?" she hissed. "How on earth did..."

"Can we talk about this later?" he pleaded, running his hands up from her stomach to her shoulders and around to her back - he had been the one lying on the bottom at this time, and it felt so delightfully _right_. "I really need..." He groaned, and there was no need for an end to that sentence. She could feel _it _anyway.

They hadn't actually managed to have sex many times since she went on the pill before this whole thing blew up, and it was still a welcome pleasure to do it without the obstruction of a condom. It couldn't feel any better. This was all Natsume needed for the moment; long enough to forget about this doomed future ahead of them, long enough to lose himself for a while.

He knew she was still crying - she cried when he entered her; it had been a while, and he felt the contraction that had taken place. If it did anything, it made it even better for him. But she cried out - it probably had hurt a little - and he closed his lips over hers to stop the sound reaching his ears. He couldn't stand it; he didn't want her to cry; it made him know something bad was coming.

He would be a liar to say he wasn't aware that Mikan's behaviour so far suggested that firstly she didn't love him (she hadn't said it back to him, had she?), and secondly that she wasn't going to reconsider her decision - this _felt _like a goodbye. He didn't _want _to be aware of this, but in the back of his head he was, so there was nothing he could do about it except make love to her and hope.

Natsume was rarely ever wrong about things, but there was one thing he had not expected; as he and Mikan neared the peak of their love-making, he had almost completely shut out any outside sound, when he heard her speaking - saying words, at least.

"Oh god," she gasped as her fingernails drew cresents across his shoulderblades; carving skeletal wings on his already-marred skin. "Natsume..."

He still loved it when she said his name, especially when it was in these circumstances.

"I love you," someone said, but it wasn't until he realized it wasn't _him _that Natsume took note. Yes, it was her. As she lost control of everything, she couldn't stop her lips betraying her mind's resolution over her heart.

_Don't tell him. _She'd told herself.

_It will only make things harder_.

By now they were almost perfectly in sync; a rise from her was a retreat from him, and surges from him crashed into her territory, broke, and then washed back out. Best of all, again and again she made her confession, broken half-breaths and short gasps. _I love you, I love you, Natsume, I love you so much._

She was crying again now, proper tears; streaming down her face as she sobbed her own love to him. He finally understood. Love _hurt_, and the more they admitted they loved each other the more they were going to harm each other to part. Ignorance and denial were bliss, but the kind of sham happiness that burnt out like a breath of flames from a bottle-neck.

"Don't do this," he groaned after he finally came, and they slowed to a stop - still together - and fell against each other like waterlogged towels; a flat, sodden pressure; borne out of pure exhaustion. "It can work, don't _cry_. It's not over," he whispered, his fingers wiping her salty cheeks.

"_How _is it not over?" she said sadly. "There's no way we... I mean, it's not going to... even if you _came _all the way here then..." He stopped her mouth with a kiss.

"_Stop this_," he said. "You said it, didn't you? You said you loved me." Mikan fidgeted.

"I was..." she said awkwardly.

"You _said _it," he insisted. "I love you; you love me, _right_?"

Mikan had never foreseen this situation in a million million years, but, wild as it was, it was true. So she nodded.

"Then _shut up_ and don't ruin it," he said harshly. "We can worry tomorrow." He kissed her again, and with a little more cajoling she was persuaded to let go of it. Leave the night untouched, he argued; the morning was for their problems. They both needed it.

Even so, they didn't sleep well: despite being together. All night one or the other woke up for no determinable reason, and whenever one of them did, they immediately became desperate to consolidate their doomed love, and they ended up having sex all over again; the last time being when the new light of dawn was glowing behind her curtains.

Mikan fell asleep again, but Natsume did not, and when the time dragged on to a more reasonable hour of the day she awoke to find he was no longer in bed with her. She missed his presence beside her already, and she hated it because she knew it wasn't allowed to last.

She didn't know where he was, but a sudden horrible thought possessed her, and she wondered if he'd just turned up, _said _he'd loved her to get her to crack and confess her own feelings – and have sex with him – and then take off again. She didn't _want _to believe it, or even think it was likely, but in her current state of mind it was a possibility.

She hurried out of bed, dragged on whatever clothes she could find and raced downstairs, about to burst into her kitchen and ask her mom when and where he'd gone, when she noticed the boy himself sitting at her table with a mug in his hand. He was wearing, it would seem, a t-shirt of Haruki's. In the light, and with short sleeves, she could see the cuts and burns dotting his skin all the more clearly.

"Hey," he said; his voice still hoarse and barely above a croak: smoke inhalation.

"Um, good morning," she replied awkwardly. Why had she been so stupid as to think he was going to leave?

"I couldn't get back to sleep, so I came downstairs. Haruki was up already," he explained, and Mikan remembered that Haruki's work started very early – he would've been up when Natsume came downstairs, but would have left by now. He must have given him the shirt.

"That's fine," she said, for lack of anything else _to _say. Then her mom came into the room.

"Oh, Mikan, you're awake at last," she said cheerfully, and a shared glance between her and Natsume led Mikan to believe they had been talking before she came downstairs too. Natsume drank from his mug and stared out of the window.

"So are you going to ask?" he said quietly, and Mikan looked back at him.

"Ask what?"

"Everything."

"Yes, that works," she said, sitting down opposite him and watching her mother out of the corner of her eye; she was bustling about in the kitchen, but quite obviously with the intention of listening in on them.

So he did tell her everything; from hitting his Alice _hard _after she left, which was where many of those burns she now saw on him were from, to yesterday night, after she called him. He explained how he managed to get a contact for Hotaru, and managed to get her to open the door to him in the middle of the night, which was probably more impressive than getting the number.

Mikan could barely believe the story; especially when he mentioned that it was Hotaru who bound most of his bleeding wounds – actually touching him in the process – and loaned him money to get the train.

"She's _never _been like that," Mikan gasped. "I just can't believe it was _my _Hotaru who did this."

"She did it for you," he said.

"Eh?"

"She did it for you," he said clearly. "She... cares about you a lot, and she doesn't want you to be apart from her as much as I do. Well, nearly as much." Mikan found it hard to ignore his leg pressed against hers under the table at this point. He coughed suddenly, and she heard the dry sounds escaping his throat as hacked it raw. Too much smoke and solvents.

She was struck with the realisation that he had quite literally been destroying himself – she'd been away barely two weeks and he was cut, bruised, burnt and broken. She didn't want to do this to him.

"What..." she said sadly, and he picked up the tone change at once, "what do we _do_, Natsume?" She could hear the tremble in her own voice, and pleaded with herself not to cry anymore. No more tears, please.

"I don't know," he said hoarsely. "But I know that... I can't call it like this." He looked straight at her, and she felt the heat of his body against hers through their legs under the table. "I don't care what's supposed to happen, or how we're 'supposed' to get over this because it's the first time or whatever: I'm not. I love you, and I'm not letting you go."

Mikan stared down at the table and breathed slowly; hearing him say the words made her want to have hope, but the voice in her head spoke of being rational and not throwing it all away for a guy like her mother had, so she quietly said, "But _how_, Natsume?"

They were still – in spite of confessions, romantic gestures and an unhealthy amount of sex – back at square one.

"Darling," Yuka said brightly as she walked by the table and set a cup of green tea down next to her daughter. "I've been chatting to Natsume-kun, about life the universe and everything and so on, but I wondered, have you actually thought about...?"

* * *

Haha, cliffhanger ;P

Review please, even if the counter looks high, I hang on every single review I get :D You hold my happiness and the speed of the next update in your keyboards.


	32. XXXII

Well, this is finally here, I'm sorry for leaving a cliffhanger for so long. Real life turned up.

Enjoy the chapter! Thanks to EVERYONE who voted for me in GARC, this story polled third place in best romance! WOO! Go me!

* * *

"What?" Mikan asked, pushing for her mother to finish the sentence she'd broken off right in the middle of. Ditz.

"Oh! Well, have you thought about dropping out this year?" Yuka said.

"But... mom!" Mikan cried, finding it hard to believe she was hearing these words. "I _need_ to go to university! You never had the chance, and you regretted it all your life; if I don't go, I'll be letting you down, and I'll be letting _myself _down, and I'll be throwing it all away for something I've no certainly on."

"Charming," Natsume snapped from the sidelines.

"No offence," she said apologetically. "I just don't _know_, do I? What am I supposed to _do_ if I drop out? Work? I want to finish my education and I don't want to be a housewife before I'm even..."

"Mikan, slow down," Yuka chided. "You're babbling. I was _saying_, have you ever thought about dropping out this year and applying _next year_? Many students take a gap year before going to university." Mikan was silent, as she tried to process the information... surely, they'd thought about that option before?

"So, if you dropped out," Natsume started to speak, obviously recounting area covered with Yuka in Mikan's absence. "You could come back to Tokyo and apply there next year."

"Work for a year," Yuka said. "It's not permanent, but it can be helpful: you can save up money so that you don't have to work long hours when you're _at _university."

"Tokyo is so expensive though," Mikan said. "And... you're going to sell the house, aren't you? That was the plan."

"Don't you _want _to come back!" Natsume snapped suddenly; anger flaring up in his eyes. "Why do you keep picking holes in this?!" he snarled.

"I'm not!" she yelled back at him. "I'm just pointing out the problems!"

"There _are _no problems," he hissed. "You can drop out here, come back to Tokyo with me, and I'll help you get into a _better _university, I promise you." It was true that Mikan was not going to a particularly good university in Hokkaido, but she had done better than she'd thought she would once Natsume and Hotaru teamed up to tutor her. If they had a whole _year _then the possibilities were endless.

"If you took a year out, you could find something you _really _want to do," Yuka added. It was true that Mikan was unsure about whether she really _wanted _to do the course she'd picked, and she'd confessed as much to her mother. She felt like she just chose it because she wanted to do _something, _and didn't really have a passion for what she was doing. "We could sell the house, and use the money to buy a smaller place, or to fund your accommodation costs. Darling," Yuka said, "it _could _work. I'm not saying I want to be parted from you again, but it was _you_ who told _me _to follow my heart here." Mikan felt herself trembling, and wondered when her mother had changed – with Tsubasa she had tried to hamper them at every turn and _actively _disliked him, and here she barely knew Natsume, but she was going the whole nine yards to try to keep them together.

"Perhaps you should listen to your own good advice and follow yours back to Tokyo. I love you; you're my baby and you always _will be, _but you've barely been yourself since you came up here. Mothers can always tell, you know, when their children are suffering from broken hearts."

"Mikan, _please _do this," Natsume said. "You're leaving so much behind."

"You mean I'm leaving _you_ behind," she said darkly, but he met her look.

"Yes. But you are also leaving your friends." He placed a hand over one of the bandages on his arm, and her eyes followed him on instinct. "I'm not going to try to blackmail you into coming back by saying I'm going to deliberately hurt myself, but I _will _hurt myself – even if it was the last thing I want to do – if you don't give this a shot. If it fucks up, you can come back here and go through the whole process again; shit, I'll even help you apply to a university _here_ next year, _so long _as you give Tokyo a shot." He gave her a pleading look. "Please. I don't want to go home without you."

Mikan was quiet for a few seconds, and then suddenly screamed and hit her fist against the table.

"What am I supposed to say?!" she screamed in frustration. "I want to say yes, but how am I supposed to..."

"Then say yes," Natsume said.

"You want to," Yuka added. "So just do it, Mikan."

"Uh... _yes_," she hissed; face in her hands. "You've got me." She hung her head. It wasn't that she was mad at being forced into something she didn't want to do – she _did _want to do it – but she was painfully aware that she was giving up a lot, giving a whole _year _of her life, to _him_. It was a frightening thought, even though Natsume had always demanded a lot, and she simply had no assurance that it wouldn't all crash and burn. She was _scared_, in short.

Then he leaned over the table, his hand on top of hers, and kissed her, and then she remembered why it would be okay.

"Can we go home, Mikan?" he said softly, and without thinking she followed his lips as they retreated and recaptured them. He twisted away and his mouth came to a stop by her ear. "I love you," he whispered, and she felt his needs in the pause that followed.

"I... love you too," she said back to him; she meant it, dear god she'd meant it for a long time, but to actually confess it had never been part of her plan. "Yes, I want to go home."

Home – they both knew what this was, but they were both aware that it wasn't going to be easy by any standards. There was still his parents to deal with, leaving Yuka and Haruki again, finding jobs, restarting applications, actually _starting _university in his case and so much more.

But they could do it. They could do anything together. Together they were _normal_, and not fucked-up misfits from a bad school with no destination in life. They had love.

True to his words, Natsume found a way. He continued to stay with Yuka and Haruki for a few days, helping Mikan pack all her things _back _again, and negotiating some sort of complicated loan-come-rent-finance deal from Haruki. As far as she could work out, they were going to sell the house in Tokyo as planned, and then use the money from that to rent a small apartment – the rent _would _be repayed in full, but it would be on some sort of spread out and subsidised level.

Basically it meant that _they _would be getting an appartment.

Meaning Mikan and Natsume.

Meaning they were going to live together. Quickly, yes, and with every likelihood of backfiring, but it was prettymuch the only reasonable option, as they both knew what would happen when they returned to Tokyo, and Natsume reappeared on the map.

His parents would, and did, _flip out. _That said, he didn't really deal with it for that long, because he only went back to his house to collect a few things. Living with Mikan was going to be effective _immediately_, even before the house sold. His parents didn't like it, but there wasn't anything they could do about it in the end (they would eventually accept Mikan, even if it took nearly a year), and within the month they were living happily – if a little argumentatively – under the same roof.

Natsume easily found part-time work, while Mikan worked part-time evenings _and _a full-time job once term started and Natsume began his freshman year at university. Ironically enough, _she_ ended up working in a police station of all places (they agreed to let her work there as she had a clean record for the past year). Natsume wasn't _entirely _impressed at first, but Mikan found that she enjoyed it a lot, and in the end it was criminal psychology that she applied for: '_real_ criminals', she always insisted, not the pumped up charges that were flung against Alices unfairly.

Naturally this mean _Natsume _learnt criminal psychology as well, as he had promised to help Mikan pass her exams, so as well as his economics degree he studied half the night to tutor her, and then studied the rest passing the information on.

It was perhaps the busiest year of their lives; that first year. In between jobs, school, tutoring and occasionally going out to see their friends, they barely _had _time to have sex (although they always managed somehow), and they had almost no time at all to argue. They were too exhausted with the rest of their lives to do anything more than collapse on each other at the end of the day and take comfort. Sometimes they might have taken things out on the other one, but it never lasted very long (meaning until one of them got the horn).

A year sped by faster than the first few months of their relationship ever felt – the Academy, probably – and on the date of their first anniversary something rather special happened.

"Aoi called me today," Natsume said as he dumped his bag outside their door and wandered into the appartment – he knew Mikan was in because he could smell the food. Looking back now, he couldn't imagine any other place being _home_ now. This was his home; sure it was small, cluttered, and Mikan left her knickers, makeup and socks _everywhere_, and people gave him strange looks for being one of the only freshmen not to be living in the halls, but to leave this place would be to leave his _sanity_.

"Yeah?" Mikan called from the bathroom; she was looking for a nail varnish, but while she left things chaotically all around, and Natsume was _constantly _tidying up their bedroom, he was an absolute _demon _in a bathroom. His _life _was in his bathroom, and their was small enough without his explosion of mess and things packing every shelf and surface.

"It's our anniversary," he replied, and he heard her stop moving.

"Is it?" she said.

"Well, that's what she says. She said 'what have you got Mi-chan for your first anniversary?' so I assumed it must be our anniversary."

"Oh," Mikan said. She couldn't really say anything else; neither of them could actually remember when they started going out, or when they'd classify as the 'start' of their relationship. "I didn't remember."

"Me neither," he said, and started undoing his shirt. He liked the fact that living alone with a girlfriend made it completely okay to start undressing anywhere and to any degree. In the summer they often lay around completely naked on afternoons off; not that they had many of them.

He went to the fridge and took out a beer, cracking it open and taking a sip he slumped down in a chair and waited for her to come out.

"Hey," she drawled sweetly, "babe." Natsume took another sip of beer and just winked at her. "Are we gonna do something _special _for this day then?" she said suggestively, and although Natsume verymuch liked the route that tone in her voice was taking, he had better ideas.

"Yes," he said succinctly, and then, staring straight at her, without any hesitation, he said, "let's get married."

"What?!" Mikan had taken his beer out of his hand and had a sip, but when he said this she spat it straight back out; onto his shirt.

"Oh fucking charming, Mikan," he snapped. "I propose to you and you _spit _on me."

"I was surprised!" she screamed. "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious," he echoed, although she already knew that. He didn't joke about shit like this.

"But..."

"I don't want to love anyone else except you," he said patiently. "We live together, it's been a year and we're still together, my parents are apparently using your _name _when relatives ask about me, and I _love _you." He reached for one of her hands and kissed it. "So marry me. What are we waiting for?"

Mikan considered all of these points; especially the one about his parents. True to expectations his parents had thrown fits when he moved out, and people were always surprised to find out that Hyuuga Natsume had moved out of his home, cleaned up his act, and was living with a girl. Her family all liked _him _well enough, and she loved Aoi like her own sister, so if his parents would just accept her then...

"Oh my god... _yes_, of course I'll marry you," she squealed suddenly, and threw herself over him. Even if he had spit-up beer on his shirt and she was going out to work, she'd still do it. She loved him.

"Hey, hey, wait," he said as he laughed, and fumbled for something in the pocket of his pants. "It's nothing special, but I reckon we could make it official, right?" He pulled a tiny ring out of his pocket, with a fire-red jewel embedded in the centre. Something cheap and cheerful; it didn't cost much, but they were used to budgeting, and it wasn't the cost that counted.

"What the...!" she gasped, snatching it from his hand and staring at the ring in marvel. "When did you..."

"On the way home," he chuckled. "It's stupid, but I thought you might be annoyed if I didn't have a ring." She kissed him.

"I love it," she said with a massive smile. "I love _you_." She kissed him again, slipping the ring onto her ring finger, and they both became aware that she was straddling his lap. Something stirred, and the once-romantic kiss became heated very quickly.

They were young, and stupid, and people would be even _more _surprised when Hyuga Natsume would go to class in a month's time with a gold ring on his left hand, instead of the silver ones he usually sported somewhere else. They would be even _more _surprised to learn that he had married his girlfriend in a small registrar's office with their best friends, Imai Hotaru and Nogi Ruka present as witnesses (that was the first time those two finally met, but it would _not _be the last).

But the criticisers did not know Natsume and Mikan Hyuuga before they met each other; they did not know the two people who had changed from being very deeply flawed and potentially doomed individuals to happy, loving, caring people. No matter what happened, or how _tough _things got, they always kept going. Because they had each other. Because they had love.

And that was all anyone ever needed, really.

_Armor Ultio Est..._

_Love is Vengance._

_The End.

* * *

_Yes, this is the end. Sorry, the fic dropped and I'd rather end it properly than let it die. So here it is.

Bit sweet and sugary, but they're the best endings ;)

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